


Toxic Red

by Zillabird



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Magic, Mind Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 04:19:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 35,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12762996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zillabird/pseuds/Zillabird
Summary: Crown Prince Richard of Gotham is universally adored by his father’s kingdom. Well, except for his stunningly beautiful but not particularly personable stepmother. In the Queen’s eyes, no one deserves the throne more than her own son, Damian, and like a good mother she’ll do anything to give him the crown. Realizing her manipulations have not worked so far, Talia sends her huntsman, and Dick’s childhood best friend, Jason to dispose of Dick as the only one standing in the way of Damian’s reign on the throne. The battle for the kingdom is waged with blood and magic, and Dick must choose between his kingdom and the man he loves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to the DCU Big Bang. I was blessed to work with the incredibly talented [Slice-of-Pai](http://slice-of-pai.tumblr.com/). I would highly recommend checking out her blog and all of the incredible art that she's created. It was such a prize to be paired with pai. Thank you again for making such a beautiful piece for me. The art piece can be found on pai's blog as well as at the end of Chapter 4.
> 
> Special thanks to geckoholic and drowning_in_otps for the beta.

“You’ll like her, Dick.”

The new Queen had been taking up more and more of Bruce’s time recently and now that they were to be married Dick didn’t think that would improve. He’d never met the woman but he’d heard stories and he’d seen the way Bruce had become mesmerized by her. Dick was quite sure that he would _not_ like her.

“Dick, are you listening to me?” Bruce’s hand settled on Dick’s shoulder. The young boy looked up at the King, dark cloak hanging from his shoulders and shining golden crown resting on his head.

Dick nodded. “I’m listening, Bruce.”

“I love her,” Bruce said. “And she’ll no doubt make a good mother to you and any children she bears for me.”

Dick wrinkled his nose at the thought. “Do you really have to have more children?”

Bruce’s laugh was warm and gruff. Despite his current mood, Dick found himself smiling at the sound. “It’s a natural part of marriage, Dick. Don’t you want to be a big brother?”

Dick considered for a moment but eventually shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Bruce’s big hand ruffled Dick’s hair and Dick grinned up at him again. “You’ll come around to it, Dick. Come now. Her carriage is here.”

Dick sighed and tugged on his sash to put it back in its proper place before hopping down the steps behind Brue and coming to a stop behind him. The horses whinnied and stomped their hooves, kicking up red dust from the ground. The driver climbed down, bowing first to Bruce then to Dick, and then carefully opened the door to the carriage. Though the carriage itself was black, as well as the cushions, curtains, and even the horses still snorting as they idled, the Queen wore white. A layered gown that draped just high enough off the ground to avoid dragging through the rust-colored dirt and exposed more of her bosom than Dick was used to seeing on the women from Gotham. Talia, however, was not from Gotham.

“Talia,” Bruce greeted. He took her outstretched hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m glad to see your travels went well.”

“Thank you, Beloved,” the Queen said. Her eyes flickered down to Dick who stiffened and then stepped forward to bow low. “This must be the boy you rescued?”

“My son,” Bruce corrected. “Crown Prince Richard Grayson.”

“Welcome, Your Majesty,” Dick said. The silence stretched on and Dick risked tipping his head up to look at her. Her eyes were so cold and narrowed down the line of her nose. Dick couldn’t for the life of him figure out what Bruce saw in the woman.

Bruce cleared his throat and then put his arm up for Talia to intertwine her own with. “Let me show you the castle, Talia.”

She turned, causing Dick to nearly walk into her. Fortunate, as he was certain she would not have appreciated that. Her eyes narrowed on the carriage. “Jason?”

From inside the carriage a shadow moved and then formed into a boy who stepped out into the sun. He was pale with dark hair like Dick’s except for a thin strand that was as pure white as fresh fallen snow. His eyes glowed so green it was nearly unnatural. Younger than Dick, probably about eight years old.

Bruce frowned. “You didn’t mention a child, Talia.”

“He’s not mine,” Talia said. “Jason is more of a… a valet, I suppose. He’s training at my side.”

Bruce’s lips thinned but he didn’t argue it. Dick wished he would, simply because it was so unlike the man to let something so seemingly important go without at least more questions. The boy dropped onto the ground, rust red dust kicked up around him from the path, and then joined Talia. Under the more direct light of the sun, the spattering of freckles over his nose and cheeks were made more obvious.

“You were going to show me the castle, Beloved?” Talia prompted. Bruce nodded and guided her up the stairs towards the large wooden doors held open by the guards waiting on each side.

At some point, Bruce took Talia up to her temporary chambers where she’d be staying until after the wedding. Alfred had taken care of making preparations for her earlier but now was getting ready another room for the boy she’d brought along. A boy they’d left in the throne room before Bruce had sent Dick to the library to work on his studies. Dick cared little for studies, far more interested in the child that Talia had brought along. As Bruce would like to tell him, being the Crown Prince of Gotham was dangerous. It did not lend for Dick to often spend any time with any other children – even the children of the Lords and Ladies in the fiefs nearby.

With this boy here, despite their age gap, perhaps there would be someone with which to finally play hide and seek with in the castle.

The boy was seated on the stairs in front of the thrones. Bruce’s large throne and the more delicate looking throne beside his that was traditionally for the Queen. Behind them was a large, old portrait of Bruce’s parents seated in the same exact thrones. Smiling, warm. Bruce assured Dick that his parents were kind rulers, living up to the portrait he’d left hanging of them in the room.

“Hello,” Dick said.

The boy startled and jumped to his feet. He bowed so low Dick was sure his nose was going to touch the ground if he bowed any lower and then straightened again. “Your Highness.”

“It’s Dick,” he corrected. He didn’t like the titles and Alfred wasn’t here to tell him to use them. Besides, he wanted the boy to be his friend and it wouldn’t do to have him calling him His Highness all the time.

“Dick?” Jason asked.

“It’s short for Richard,” Dick explained. “What’s your name?”

The boy scuffed the toe of his boot against the floor. “Jason.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jason,” Dick said. He stuck his hand out and frowned when the boy didn’t immediately take it. “You’re supposed to shake.”

“Oh,” Jason said. He put a slightly pudgy hand in Dick’s. “Nice to meet you too.”

“We’re going to be friends, alright?” Dick asked. “You have to be my friend because I’m the prince.”

Jason wiped his nose with his sleeve and then shrugged. “Alright.”

“We can go play. Bruce and Talia will probably be busy for a while,” Dick said. Bruce wouldn’t even notice if Dick didn’t study for the next couple of hours.

~~~

Her Majesty’s were angry men who took far too much delight in throwing Jason against the ground. At least that was Jason’s opinion. They were bullies, no different than the kids of merchants who would shove Jason into mud puddles and laugh when he ruined the good clothes his mother made him for Sunday church. Still, Jason got back up. Her Majesty commanded it and her order pulsed under his skin to keep standing up.

Jason picked up his wooden practice sword again and lifted it up, beginning the move that he’d just learned today. He stepped forward with his right foot, swinging hard, and striking against the guard’s sword. His smaller arms shook with the force, enough so that the guard snuck under his defense and the heavy wooden sword hit his chest.

All the air rushed out of his lungs and then again when he hit the dirt.

The guards laughed. “Take a drink, kid.”

Jason scowled but pulled himself up to his feet once more. He threw the wooden sword to the side. It hit that red Gotham dirt and kicked up a small dust cloud that made Jason’s throat even drier. He hacked coughing it out, ignoring the newest round of hearty laughter at Jason’s expense. He walked away and knelt down by the bucket, cupping his hands and lifting it to his mouth. Under the brutal heat of the sun, training was taking a taxing toll on his body and the water – warm as it was – was still a blessing to his parched throat and dry, cracked lips.

Black boots stepped up next to the bucket and Jason slowly raised his eyes over the pants and royal blue shirt to the sky blue eyes staring down at him. “You’re doing well.”

Jason wiped his mouth with his sleeve, standing abruptly just so he could bow to bow to the young prince. “Your Highness.”

“I thought I told you to call me Dick,” he said.

Jason straightened. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Why not?” Dick asked.

“Because there are rules,” Jason said. “That’s what her Majesty says.”

Dick’s nose wrinkled at the mention of Jason’s mistress. “Bruce lets Alfred call him Bruce.”

“Alfred calls His Majesty _Master_ Bruce,” Jason corrected.

Dick shrugged. “Close enough.”

“Can I do something for you, Your Highness?” Jason asked.

Dick shook his head. “I just came to watch.”

“There’s not much to watch, Your Highness.” The guard speaking came up behind Jason and slapped the ten year old’s shoulder. Jason stumbled forward from it. “Jason has a lot of training to get through before he’ll be much of a show.”

Jason tried to shrug off the hand but found it too heavy to dislodge. According to Her Majesty, Jason would be far superior to these supposed warriors one day. But that day would only come after lots and lots of training. For now he had to get his basics from her soldiers and he _was_ improving, despite the number of times they mocked him for eating dirt. He could feel it.

“I think he was doing just fine considering he was facing a man three times his size,” Dick said with a charming smile.

The guard’s hand tightened on Jason’s shoulder. There would be bruises from the tips of his fingers to add to the mottled rainbow of colors that he usually wore from his training. “He’s getting used to fighting people bigger than him.”

“Can I fight?” Dick asked.

Jason tilted his head back, catching the frown as the guard warred between wanting to not injure the prince on accident and ignoring the prince’s desire to fight. As far as a guard was concerned, a suggestion of the sort was a thinly veiled order for Dick to be allowed to spar with him.

The guard held out the wooden training sword he’d been using against Jason, hilt towards Dick. “Be careful, Your Highness.”

“I will,” Dick said. He weighted it in his hand, an act that Jason recognized. He’d known the other boy had training of his own, being that he was expected to be capable of protecting his kingdom even if it meant serving on the front lines. Blue eyes met Jason’s over a wide, pleasant smile. “Ready?”

Jason walked over, picking up his own training sword from where he’d thrown it into the dirt again. “Ready.”

Dick twirled the blade in his hands. The action was showy more than anything but it fit in well of what Jason had learned about the prince. Knowing that, Jason still fell victim to the distraction of it and nearly took the tip of the wooden sword to his chest. He managed to step back and parry with a quick sidestep. His stumble made Dick smile and while the guards’ chuckles were annoying, Dick’s smile just made Jason feel more confident than before.

Jason lunged this time and Dick brought the flat of his sword up to block. Jason quickly dropped, hooking his foot around the back of Dick’s ankle and bending his knee. The sudden loss of balance knocked Dick back and Jason swung his sword up to finish knocking him over. A cloud of red dust floated up around them as Dick hit the ground with a grunt. It clung to their clothes and stuck to Dick’s sweaty face. The smile was back and Dick held his hand out for Jason to lift him up. “I knew you were doing well. You just had to fight someone your own size.”

Jason felt a small swell of pride at the words. For the first time Jason felt like he really was learning something, even if he learned it by getting knocked around by the guards.

“Master Richard!” The old man stood in the doorway held open at the front of the castle, waving him over when Dick looked over.

Dick tossed the wooden sword to the guard. “Have fun, Jason.”

“Jason!” The boy turned his head to see Talia motioning him over. He nodded once to the blue eyed prince and then ran towards his mistress.

“Doesn’t His Majesty have servants who could do this for you?” Jason asked, watching her from the doorway of the tower room. Talia put several books up on the shelves. Jason recognized them as being from her collection back home.

“Bruce doesn’t approve,” Talia said. She turned abruptly and knocked over a stack of books balanced precariously on the corner of the crate. They toppled down onto the floor. A few landed open, like the one Jason reached for with weird symbols that seemed to form words. Nothing he recognized. Jason cried out when his fingers touched the page and shock extended from his fingers up through his arm. He pulled away and Talia slammed the book closed. “Foolish boy. Don’t you know that words have power? Do you wish to unravel the very magic keeping you alive?”

Jason shook his head, stepping away from the fallen books and holding his still throbbing hand against his chest. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

She set the book back on the stack again and then lifted them up to the shelves. “Keep care with magic, boy. It’s dangerous to anyone but especially to one of your kind.”

Raised, is what Talia called him. It meant he’d been dead when she found him, would still be if Talia hadn’t thought he was worth bringing back and teaching to fight for her.

“Push that wooden crate over here,” Talia ordered. “I still haven’t found the mirror.”

Jason nodded, shaking the tingling sensation out of his hand and then grabbing the nearest crate. They were big and heavy, Jason’s chin could just sit on the top unopened, but with a heave and a grunt Jason managed to push the crate closer to Talia. “Here you go, ma’am.”

Jason set the crowbar in Talia’s outstretched hand. She pushed it into the crack, popping off the top with more strength than Jason expected from an elegant lady such as Her Majesty. The lid came off, shoved to the side. Talia dug through the straw packed to keep everything safe, setting it into a pile on the floor and revealing a mirror in the middle of the box.

Jason had seen it before, when Talia and he had still lived in her lonely palace instead of this one with the prince with the pretty blue eyes. It hung on her bedroom wall and Jason had used to think it was beautiful from far away. Up close, Jason realized that the pearl white frame he’d thought was impeccably carved was actually made of bleached white bones. Jason stepped back. “Are those real?”

“Of course,” Talia said. Her fingers ran over the bones. “My father’s. When he died, I knew that to let them bury him would be the greatest waste of great power in the history of magic. These are imbued with _centuries_ of magic.”

Jason swallowed back the lump in his throat to try and quiet his twisting gut. He glanced up at Talia’s face just in time to catch the glare of glowing green in her eyes before they faded back to their natural moss color. “Isn’t that dangerous or something?”

“The most powerful things are always dangerous, Jason,” Talia said. She lifted it up, hanging it on the wall. “This mirror is how we will succeed in bringing back power to my family’s line.”

“How does a magic mirror help?” Jason asked.

Talia dragged her fingers through his hair, scraping his scalp with her nails in the process. “You’re short sighted, but you’ll see. One day.”

Jason nodded, knowing better than to argue or ask for more information. If Talia wanted him to know, she’d tell him.

~~~

Dick looked down at the hand sliding into his. Jason was still so small and his hand was dwarfed by Dick’s as the elder took to puberty like a swan. He’d grown four inches since his fourteenth birthday last year, filling out into the shape of a man. Jason still remained baby faced and sticky fingered at thirteen. Dick squeezed his hand anyways and then let go. It wouldn’t do for Dick to be holding the hand of Talia’s valet at such a public gathering.

Jason flashed him a small smile and then returned both hands to the small of his back, posture straight and downright uncomfortable looking. Especially on someone so young.

“You look stiff,” Jason said.

Dick snorted and straightened more, pulling his shoulders back and keeping his spine straight like Alfred had taught him. It was a perfect imitation of the regal way that Bruce stood just across the ballroom. No wonder that many in the kingdom thought Dick was Bruce’s bastard son. “You’re one to talk.”

“Alfred helped,” Jason explained. Those captivating green eyes scanned the bodies twirling and dancing about on ballroom floor, gowns flaring with the spins and shoes invoking a quiet echo of the beat coming from the orchestra Bruce had hired to play.

“He’s good at that,” Dick said.

Music swelled and Dick blew out a soft breath, boredom crawling under his skin and making muscles twitch. Jason let out a heavy sigh beside him. If Dick was uncomfortable, Jason looked to be in absolute torture. It was a lot to expect a child of Jason’s age to stand still and yet Talia’s expectations of him has always been unbelievably demanding.

Dick leaned over. “We could run away together.”

Jason’s head snapped over, eyes wide and mouth gaping. “What?”

“This is boring,” Dick whispered. “I want to go outside.”

It made Dick frown, the way Jason’s eyes searched out Talia to where Bruce was twirling her around the dance floor. “I don’t think she’d like that very much.”

“Tell her that you were keeping me safe,” Dick said easily. “I was going to leave. It would be irresponsible of you to allow the Crown Prince of Gotham to leave without someone keeping an eye on him.”

The way hope built up in the boy’s eyes made Dick’s heart ache, made him take Jason’s hand again and duck behind the thrones. He dashed out from behind them, looking to his left just in time to see Bruce’s exasperated expression as he realized that Dick was making his escape, and then raced into the servants’ quarters. The servants in question made noises as the prince raced past them and towards the stairs, Jason’s legs scrambling to keep up as he was dragged along.

Dick kept one hand against the wall, running it over the uneven stones, to keep both of them from falling, and then drew to a sharp stop when he found the solid oak door leading outside. Dick let go of Jason’s hand to take the iron handle and pushed with his shoulder, the groan of the metal hinges echoing in the empty staircase before the door swung out and the warm spring breeze came in. He took Jason’s hand again and pushed the door closed behind them before following the dirt path through the long grass towards the stable. Past the stable, the dirt path widened considerably. Dick was panting and out of breath, though less so than Jason who had been running twice as fast to keep up with Dick, when he slowed down.

“You left your birthday party,” Jason said.

“It was a boring birthday party,” Dick replied. “And it’s not really held for me anyway.”

“Who is it held for then?” Jason asked.

Dick walked them down the path, through the thick of the forest on both sides of the path, and shrugged. “It’s for the kingdom, I think. They come to the castle and celebrate, but if it was just for me then it would just be me and Alfred and Bruce and you.”

“Me?” Jason asked.

“Of course you,” Dick said. “We would go riding and then we’d come to the lake and swim for hours. No one would have to wear fancy clothes and Bruce would play hide and seek with us in the trees.” He looked away from Jason at that, not wanting the boy to see how much he missed all the time he’d used to be able to spend with Bruce that wasn’t _official_. “We would still do the fireworks but we’d watch them while we floated on the lake. Alfred would make our favorite foods.”

“Sounds nice,” Jason said.

Dick’s shoulders sagged, away from the rigid expectations of the castle. He nodded and pulled up one side of his lips in a small half smile. “It does, doesn’t it?”

The moon was reflected on the surface of the lake along with a million pinpricks of starlight. Dick worked the buttons of his shirt before shedding it on a mossy log to the side. He freed himself from his pants next, leaving nothing but his undergarments.

“Dick?” Jason asked.

He turned and crossed his arms over his chest. Before he’d been weak and small but age and training had lengthened him out and nurtured soft flesh into hard muscle. “Come on, Jason. We’re going swimming.”

Jason stared out at the water and even under the blue hue of the night sky, Dick could make out the pink flush over the boy’s cheeks. “I don’t know how.”

“I’ll show you,” Dick promised. “I won’t let anything happen.” Jason still didn’t move to strip and Dick leaned down and wrapped the boy in a hug. “You trust me, right?”

Jason nodded.

“I promise, I won’t let anything happen,” Dick said.

A bird squawked in the distance and the crickets made a beautiful song out of their calls but the silence stretched between Dick and Jason before small arms embraced Dick in turn. Jason squeezed as tight as he could and then stepped back, proceeding to follow Dick’s example and divest himself of the dress clothes he wore. Jason’s were folded neatly, undoubtedly leftover from taking care of such things for Talia, and placed beside Dick’s hopeless heap on the log.

The waves of the lake lapped at the shore, frothing at the tips and then dragging back out once more. Jason’s toes curled into the wet ground and he took a nervous step towards Dick who, in turn, put his hand on Jason’s back. “Trust me.”

“I do,” Jason said.

They stepped out into the water together and found it surprisingly warm. Dick took Jason’s hand, saying nothing about the way that the ten year old squeezed his fingers until the tips were red and his knuckles ached. “You’re doing great, Jason.”

Jason nodded. His determination made his green eyes almost glow.

It took some time but Dick worked him out into the deeper water where the waves reached his collar bone as long as they stood on their toes. “Lay on your back, Jason.”

“What?” the boy asked, voice cracking.

“I’m going to help you float,” Dick said. “I won’t let go.”

Jason swallowed visibly, Adam’s apple bobbing. He stepped towards Dick and laid his head back in the water. Dick scooped his arms under Jason’s shoulders and thighs to lift the boy to the top of the water. The boy’s eyes were squeezed shut and his fists tight to the point of white knuckles. Dick laughed and then said, “I’ve got you.”

Jason nodded but didn’t relax. His body was stiff as a board and Dick was glad he could keep ahold of him because right now all Jason would do was sink to the bottom of the lake like a rock if he let go.

“Open your eyes, Jay,” Dick prompted.

Slowly, cautiously, one eye cracked open and then widened to be followed by the other. Jason’s chest leaped with the force of the sudden breath he took, floating on the water and staring up at the stars and sky. Dick could imagine, seeing it reflected and tinted with the hue of green in Jason’s eyes. “Wow.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Dick asked.

Jason didn’t speak, but his captivation with the sight spoke more than words ever could. A whistle sounded, breaking the silence, and then red lights flashed in the sky. The boom of the firecracker followed and then the crackle as the lights faded. The process repeated, this one blue and the next green. Dick must have lost track of the time, not realizing it was already so late that they were beginning to set off the fireworks.

The two boys watched silently and Dick never once let go, holding Jason and letting him float on the water.

They stayed there in the water until the last of the fireworks went off and the silence was deafening after the thunderous roar of the fireworks for so long. Dick carried Jason back to the shallower water, walking out beside him and dripping water onto grass. When Dick got done dressing he helped Jason with the tiny buttons that the boy simply didn’t have the dexterity to fix quickly. Their boots squeaked with the water from their wet feet. It made for an uncomfortable walk up the path back to the castle.

They left rust red footprints from the mud behind them, walking into the empty ballroom now that the guests had left. The water dripping off the two boys as they stepped before Bruce and Talia seemed especially loud now that the two were staring at them with disappointed expressions. Well, Bruce looked disappointed. Talia’s face was cold, emotionless. It made Dick’s stomach twist.

Jason bowed low. “Your Majesties.”

“Dick,” Bruce started.

Talia didn’t let him get much farther. “That was incredibly rude, Richard. These guests were here for you. I have never been so embarrassed in my life as when I realized you’d abandoned your own celebration. An incredibly ungrateful action.”

Dick chewed on the inside of his cheek, ignoring her in favor of pinning his eyes to Bruce. Before she died, Mama had told him that if you didn’t have anything nice to say then you shouldn’t say anything at all. Dick had _never_ had anything nice to say to Talia, which probably accounted for the fact that he didn’t talk to her all that much.

“Talia, I think you’re being a little harsh on the boy,” Bruce said. “He’s still young.”

“He’s fifteen,” Talia said. “Fifteen is more than old enough to show gratitude.”

“Talia-“

“Do as you wish with him,” Talia said. “I was my hands of it. Jason, follow me. There will be discipline for this.”

“Talia-“ Dick cut short when he caught the glare in her eyes. He clenched his jaw and then amended, “Your Majesty, it was my idea. He came to keep an eye on me.”

“That is what we have guards for,” Talia said. “Though they should be executed for their failure to keep you inside. Jason, _come here_. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Dick’s hand squeezed around Jason’s but the boy still pulled it free and walked over to Talia, eyes lowered as he dripped water all over the ballroom floor. She turned, rich green gown twirling behind her before she walked upstairs with Jason following dutifully behind her.

“It wasn’t his fault, Bruce,” Dick said.

Bruce set his hand on Dick’s shoulders, looking down at him with thinned lips and tight eyes. He squeezed Dick’s shoulders gently. “Dick, Jason is a servant. It’s not acceptable for him to be abandoning his duties and certainly not to help you escape from your birthday party. Being Talia’s personal servant, it’s not really our place to tell him what he can and cannot do.”

“We were bored,” Dick said. “I hate these things. We just ran up to the lake and watched the fireworks. If it’s my birthday, why is it so wrong to do the things _I_ want to do?”

“You’re a prince,” Bruce said. “It’s not as simple as doing what we want. We have a duty.”

“I don’t want a duty,” Dick said. “I don’t want to be Prince, either.”

“I’m afraid it’s far too late for that. You _are_ Prince, and one day you’re going to be King,” Bruce said.

Dick straightened at that. He didn’t want to be King. He didn’t like knowing that after Bruce died, Dick would have to take the crown. He didn’t want it but there was no choice. Not as long as he was Bruce’s son.

“May I be excused?” Dick asked. The words were hissed through gritted teeth.

Bruce let go of Dick’s shoulders and stepped back. Dick could feel the stare way down in his bones. “You need to start adjusting to this, Dick. I’m going to need your help here soon. Talia and I have news and… we wanted to wait until after your birthday to tell you. She’s expecting a child. You’re going to be a brother and I’ll need you to help them, guide them. I need you to grow up a little.”

Dick rocked back. Talia was mean and cold, none of the things that Bruce had used to describe her like. She didn’t like Dick any more than he liked her and now she was going to give Bruce a child.

A _real_ child. Not one that he picked up from strangers.

“May I be excused?” Dick repeated, not meeting Bruce’s eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the disappointment.

It didn’t mean that he couldn’t hear it in Bruce’s sigh. “Go upstairs, Dick.”

He still didn’t look at Bruce when he ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The door slammed shut behind him.

~~~

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Followed by another round of giggles. They were grating on Jason’s ears from his perch in the tree and she seemed _incapable_ of holding them in. With Talia growing round and even more temperamental than normal, Jason had taken to avoiding her whenever possible. Hiding in the servant’s quarters with Alfred, in the stables, or down by the lake again. Today he’d found one of the trees on the castle grounds and hid up in the leaves and branches. He’d already been here when Dick had brought the daughter of a Lord from the kingdom out to sit beneath the apple tree and Dick had been oblivious to his presence.

“You can call me Dick,” he said softly. “Titles are too formal.”

“ _You can call me Dick,_ ” Jason mouthed silently, rolling his eyes. He was never a fan of Dick taking these girls on tours of the castle grounds, holding their hands and spending time with them under the apple trees. The girls with their fancy dresses, smooth talked by the prince into sitting down on the ground and leaving brown smudges on expensive fabric. Dick with his smile and his charm.

Dick was supposed to be Jason’s friend.

 _Ribbit_.

Jason twisted around on the branch he was laying on, looking up to the next branch and the little mud colored toad clinging there. How he managed to get up this high was beyond Jason but there he was. “Kind of high up for a toad, aren’t you?”

“Did you hear something?”

Jason covered his mouth with his hand, stilling on the branch and listening to the silence. Dick chuckled. “I think it was just the wind.”

More giggles.

 _Ribbit_.

Jason looked up at the frog again. He was standing up before the gears even finished moving in his mind, balancing booted feet on the branch and carefully steadying himself on the trunk. If he stood on his tip toes, he could reach the upper branch and he wrapped one hand around the toad. The bumps rubbed uncomfortably against his fingertips and it squirmed around in his hand. Jason had to hold it close to his chest and use his other hand to brace against the upper tree branch as he leaned forward.

Through the leaves of the tree the young lady’s lemon yellow dress could be made out easily against the grass. It was all too easy to reach his hand out, aim carefully, and then release the toad. It dropped through the air and she made a soft gasp as the toad landed in her hair. “Did I get hit with an apple?”

“Um…” Dick trailed off. There was no way that from Dick’s position he couldn’t see the toad in the girl’s hair. His bright blue clothes were also easy to follow as he leaned over but not in enough time.

Her hand went up and the shriek covered Jason’s laughter as she removed the toad and tossed the poor creature to Dick. He caught it with both hands and then carefully set it on the ground.

“I can’t _believe_ you brought me out here!”

“Wait!” Dick called. Jason crouched down to the first branch so he could watch her lift her skirts and _run_ back to the safety of the castle. Without her screeching, his laughter became audible. Dick stepped into view, arms crossed over his chest. “Jason?”

Jason grabbed the branch he was standing on and dropped to hang from it before letting go and landing in a crouch next to the trunk. Beside him, the toad made that familiar ribbit and then proceeded to hop away from them. He grinned at Dick. “You’re welcome.”

“That was mean,” Dick said.

“It was funny,” Jason corrected. Dick’s arms didn’t uncross. Jason arched an eyebrow. “You can fool the others, but you can’t fool me.”

Dick looked back towards the castle. When he turned back around to face Jason there was a hint of a smile on his face. His cheeks twitched trying to keep it from spreading but he inevitably failed. “It _was_ kind of funny.”

“You have the worst taste,” Jason said. “She was annoying.”

“So are you,” Dick mocked. He slung his arm around Jason’s shoulders, guiding him back towards the castle. “And now I have to do damage control.”

Jason shoved Dick away, despite the way his shoulders felt cold when Dick’s cheerful embrace was taken away.

~~~

The baby turned out to be one of the most terrible creatures that Dick had ever had the misfortune of interacting with. Second only, perhaps, to Talia. When it wasn’t screaming, crying, and stinking up whatever room it inhabited, the baby was being coddled by Bruce who looked at it like it was the beginning, middle, and end of his whole world. Talia didn’t spend nearly as much time with the child, but Dick didn’t find himself all that surprised. She was a cold woman and Dick could not picture her being affectionate with even her own blood son.

“What’s wrong, Master Richard?” Alfred asked.

Dick twisted on the swing hanging from the oak tree, a hint of warmth in his cheeks at having been caught sulking. He turned back around, using the toe of his boot to push the swing a few inches. Alfred stepped up beside him. “Nothing, I guess.”

“Nothing?” Alfred asked. Dick shrugged. “Your blueness would not have anything to do with young Master Damian, would it?”

Dick looked down. “Bruce has already told me that I’m being childish.”

“That is to be expected when one is still a child,” Alfred said.

Dick’s nose wrinkled. “I’m not a child, Alfred. I’m fifteen.”

“Of course, sir,” Alfred indulged. Dick caught him glancing at Dick out of the corner of his eye. “And I suppose with your new status of adulthood, you will have no use for my pastries and sweets.”

Dick’s head snapped over to him. “What?”

Alfred’s lips twitched. “The jesting of an old man, Master Richard.” He wrapped his hand around the rope of the swing, stilling Dick’s absent movements. “It’s quite alright to be upset at the changes, sir. It’s normal. What is not alright is for you to take out your ire on Master Bruce or Miss Talia, young Master Damian. Have you even held the boy?”

Dick nodded. “After he was born.”

“Master Damian has been here for several weeks,” Alfred said. “Are you telling me that the only time you’ve held him is the day he was born?”

“There’s not a lot of time,” Dick bit out. He kicked up a cloud of red dust with his shoe. “Bruce is always holding him so even if I wanted to hold him, it’s not like I could.”

Alfred’s wrinkled hand moved off the rope and settled on Dick’s shoulder. “You miss him.”

“I don’t-“ Dick started. He couldn’t lie to Alfred though. He looked back towards where Bruce and Talia were walking the dirt paths around the castle, Damian cradled in Bruce’s arms. “I miss him.”

“ _Tell him_ ,” Alfred said. “Sulking over here is not going to get anywhere.”

“What if nothing changes?” Dick asked.

“Something will.” Alfred squeezed Dick’s shoulder. “I was on my way out to the gardens. I believe I will continue on to them.”

Dick used the toe of his boot to swing some after Alfred left and then leapt off the swing.

Later that evening, Dick tracked Bruce down to the nursery. It didn’t surprise Dick to find the man there, but it hurt more than Dick wanted to admit. Talia must have made her way to bed already that evening because Bruce was alone, rocking in the wooden rocking chair with the baby in his arms.

“Bruce?”

The man looked up and managed a small smile for Dick. “You’re up a little late, aren’t you?”

“I think I’m a bit old for a bedtime, Bruce,” Dick said.

Blue eyes narrowed on him and Dick stilled just as he stepped inside the doorway. It had been a long time since Dick had been the subject of this much of Bruce’s focus. Then Bruce’s expression softened. “You’ve grown up a lot. Sometimes I forget you’re not the same eight year old boy I brought home from the circus that night.”

Dick’s back straightened as he closed the nursery door behind him. He leaned against the wood, feeling the grain through his shirt. He curled his fingers, nails scratching against the wood, and took a deep breath. “Bruce, am I still…”

“Still?” Bruce asked.

“Do you still love me?”

Bruce so rarely ever said those words. For a long time in Dick’s youth, that had bothered him. His parents had told him how much they loved him all the time and when he’d come to live with Bruce he’d expected the same. It had taken a good year, and more than one night of staining Alfred’s shirt and apron with his tears, before Dick had realized that Bruce simply wasn’t very good at expressing himself in words. His love was in the late nights helping Dick with his studies and encouraging Dick to join him with the advisors to listen in on the big decisions concerning the kingdom, even when those same advisors had warned Bruce that he was too young. Bruce’s love was in teaching Dick to ride the horses and the hearty laughter when he’d adapted his circus training and learned to flip off the back of Zitka while she ran. Dick knew that Bruce loved him, or had… until all of those things had stopped.

When Bruce had started courting Talia, he’d been away more often. That wasn’t unusual, Bruce had to travel often to efficiently run his kingdom, but Dick was always used to him coming back. He’d ruffle Dick’s hair and treat Dick in exchange for his absence. Instead, Talia had moved in and they had been married one month after. The time Dick spent with Bruce decreased. Even then, at that point, Bruce had still found time for Dick.

“We used to spend all sorts of time together,” Dick explained, while Bruce was still silent with his tongue moving in search of words. “You would help me with my math and reading, and you’d train with me after sword fighting lessons. We used to go swimming in the lake all the time and now-”

“Dick-” Bruce interrupted. He stood and carefully set Damian down in the crib. The baby shifted and made a soft noise before settling. Only then did Bruce walk over and stop in front of Dick. “Of course I love you, Dick.”

Dick looked away, closing his eyes and hating how good it felt to hear that. But if that was surprising, it was even more surprising when Bruce pulled Dick into his arms. Dick pressed his face against Bruce’s shoulder and eagerly returned the embrace. He squeezed the man with the hopes of drawing out the hug. Even better, Bruce didn’t rush to let go. He just pulled Dick in closer and whispered against his ear, “I’m sorry, Dick. I haven’t been there. There’s been a lot going on, but that’s no excuse for ignoring you.”

“It’s okay,” Dick said.

“It’s not,” Bruce said. “But I’ll be better. After I get home in a week, we’ll spend more time together. Just the two of us. We’ll go up to the lake and swim for hours, okay?”

Dick nodded, still pressing his face against Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce had to pull away and Dick let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He pressed the heel of his hands against his eyes. “As soon as you get back?”

“Before I do anything else,” Bruce promised.

Dick lifted the chain off from around his neck. “Here.”

Bruce’s expression softened. “Dick, your mother gave you that.”

“She gave it to me to protect me,” Dick said. “But I’m not the one going anywhere. It’ll serve you better while you travel.”

Bruce sighed but eventually nodded. He took the necklace, the candlelight glinting off the teardrop shaped amber pendant before he slid the chain over his head and let the pendant settle over his chest. “Thank you, Dick.”

~~~

At the end of the week, Dick rocked on his heels and then went back to pacing across the broad stone steps to the entrance of the castle. Boots clicked against the stone and Dick met amused teal eyes. “You’re going to wear a hole in the stones.”

“He’s running a bit late,” Dick explained. “I’m just… eager for him to make it home.”

Jason elbowed him in the side. “Relax, Your Highness.”

Dick rolled his eyes at the title. In private, Jason would use his name or some variation of it. In public, Jason was the epitome of proper etiquette. At least with titles, considering the elbow digging into his ribs. “I’ll relax when he’s home.” Jason’s sigh was so dramatic and then he sat down on the stairs. “What are you doing?”

“I’m waiting with you,” Jason said.

After a beat, Dick sat down beside him. He rested his elbows on his knees, leg bouncing in anticipation, and kept his eyes focused on the edge of the forest where Bruce would be returning from.

The first hoot of an owl, heralding the final drop of the sun behind the thick of the forest trees, made Dick startle. He narrowed his eyes on the path, empty as it had been all day. “He should have been home by now.”

“Maybe he got held up,” Jason said. “Perhaps the weather was bad farther out or-”

“He’s never home late. He rode through a blizzard to get home in time for

Christmas once, and he promised he’d be home to spend some time with me,” Dick said. He garnered the nearest guard’s attention. “Gather four or five men and saddle the horses. We’re going to look for the King.”

“Your Highness-“

“Now!” Dick barked. His stomach rolled as unease settled in.

“I’m coming with you,” Jason said.

Dick’s lips thinned. “What about Talia?”

“I’ll deal with Her Majesty when I get back,” Jason said. “ _I’m going with you_.”

Dick couldn’t find it in himself to argue. He nodded and ran, Jason at his heels, towards the stable and saddled up Zitka.

The pounding of hooves against the ground preceded the seven horses that galloped down the path. Dick led the rush, leaned forward and squeezing Zitka between his legs, with Jason just behind him. Darkness was falling quickly, turning the forest from shadowed to dark to nearly impenetrable to even the light of the moon. It would be harder to find Bruce the darker it got, and they were less likely to find him alive and well the longer he was out here.

The sound of a horse whinnying wasn’t unexpected so it took a moment for Dick to process that it hadn’t come from one of the horses in their search party. He pulled back on the reins, drawing Zitka to a sharp stop. The others stopped beside him.

“Your High-“

Dick put up a hand to keep him quiet. He closed his eyes and focused on tuning out the roaring sound of his blood pumping in his ears and the panting of the horses.

Another horse whinny, distant like before, and Dick dropped his hand. “Bruce!”

Dick kicked his heels into the horse’s side, sending her forward to follow the sound of the distant whinnying. The further he got from the path, the louder the horse grew. Joining the shrill whinny came the stomping of hooves against the ground and a creaking noise. Dick could barely make out the frantic horse shaking his head and pulling back only to come up short. Dick dismounted and quickly tied Zitka’s reins to the nearest tree branch. He walked closer with his hands up. “Easy, Titus. Easy now.”

Titus reared back, bringing both feet down sharply.

Dick stilled and then approached again even slower. He caught Titus’ reins, wrapped up in a thicket of branches and the thorns scratching painful looking marks into the fur. He put his hand against the horse’s muzzle, rubbing gently. “Easy, Titus.”

“Dick?” The use of his name, from Jason of all people, was enough to drag Dick’s attention away from the horse. Jason climbed down from his own, tying it to the same tree as Zitka, and approached with wary eyes on Bruce’s enormous stallion. “What happened? Where’s Bruce?”

“I don’t know,” Dick said softly. He carefully untangled the reins from the thicket. Not careful enough as he slit open the top of his hand and had to brush away the blood that welled there as a result. He handed the horse’s reins off to one of the guards. “Take Titus back and get him looked at. The rest of us will stay out here looking for the King.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Dick,” Jason said. Dick grabbed Zitka’s reins and climbed up. “ _Dick_.”

“What, Jason?” Dick asked.

“We’ll find him,” Jason said.

Dick clenched his jaw. His fingers tightened around the leather straps before he put some lax in them to get Zitka moving. “Of course we will.”

For Bruce to not have gone looking for Titus and leave the horse to be trapped in that thicket, there was no good explanation for it. The various horrifying reasons ran through Dick’s mind, each worse than the last. He’d nearly worked himself to panic when he caught a flash of yellow hanging from a tree up ahead. Upon closer inspection, the amber necklace that Bruce had taken with him on the trip hung from where the chain had broken after getting caught on a branch. The yellow stone sat in Dick’s hand, cold from being exposed to the morning air instead of warm like it was when Dick wore it against his chest.

His fingers closed around it and squeezed.

A warm glow came from behind him, casting a long black shadow where he stood in the way of the light. The guard stepped closer with the lantern. “Dear God…”

The darkness of the blood covering the trees and the grass was only broken where it was still wet and reflecting the flames like a thousand sparkling orange and yellow gems. To the right, the white and gray fur of a wolf was coated in the same dark blood, spreading out from where Bruce’s sword had penetrated its side. In the center of the clearing were scraps of clothing, also soaked in blood.

The world rushed up when Dick’s knees hit the ground. “Bruce…”

“Spread out and search for…” Jason’s voice broke off and when he spoke again, it was quieter. “Spread out and search for a body.”

Dick shivered. Goosebumps broke out on his skin from the cold autumn air. The same chill sunk past his clothes and skin, invading his bones and leaving him feeling empty, hollow.

“There’s so much blood, Jason…” Dick whispered. “So much…”

Jason crouched in front of him, blue-green eyes narrowing. Fingers gripped Dick’s upper arm tightly and yanked him onto his feet. “Don’t look.”

“I can’t just leave. I have to-“

“You left without a coat. You’re in a state of shock,” Jason said. “Let’s go back to the castle. Someone needs to tell Talia.”

“I have to tell Alfred,” Dick said. Talia could… _God_ , Dick didn’t even care about Talia. He didn’t care about her or her stupid baby. He just didn’t want to go back to the castle and sit Alfred down and tell him. He didn’t want to have to break the old man’s heart like that.

Dick was barely cognizant during the ride back, just staring blankly ahead while Jason guided his horse back with a hand on the reins. The thirteen year old helped Dick off the horse and into the castle, sitting him down on the steps in front of Bruce’s throne. “Master Richard?”

Dick’s hand dragged across his face, shoving up into his windblown hair and then dropping. “Alfred.”

“What happened, boy?” Alfred asked, walking closer. “Are you well?”

Dick dragged his eyes up, meeting Alfred’s. The concern, the fear, the worry – it was all too much.

“Alfred,” Jason said. “I’m sorry. I think His Majesty is dead.”

Dick squeezed his eyes shut and his hand tightened around the amber necklace until his palm ached.

~~~

From beneath the apple tree, Jason bit into the juicy fruit and followed the smooth motions of Dick fighting with his eyes. The man had taken to training like a fiend after His Majesty the King’s death nine years ago and it was obvious in the fluid way he moved now. Shirtless as he was, each muscle was defined to the point of seeing them clench and tense before every attack. Even with the tells Dick moved far too fast for the guards he trained up against, attacking one with a foot to the stomach to knock the man back and striking the helmet of the other with his training sword.

The amber necklace around his neck sparkled in the sunlight and then landed against the sweat slick chest before bouncing up again as Dick whirled around the training field.

To his side, a canary hopped on the lowest branch of the tree. “Best start heading south, bird. It’s going to start getting cold here soon.” Jason tossed the apple core into the tall grass at the base of the tree and wiped his hand on his pants before walking over. He picked up a training sword while Dick’s back was to him and then lunged forward when he spotted an opening.

To the prince’s credit, Dick blocked Jason’s swing and showed no surprise at having been ambushed from behind. He parried and then jabbed, narrowly missing Jason’s side when the younger man sidestepped to bring the flat of the blade against Dick’s arm.

Dick struck once, twice, both swings missing Jason’s head by a hair, and then had to quickly bring up the blade. Metal clanged loudly against itself.

Jason attacked low, forcing Dick to step back and giving Jason the chance to twist on his left foot and drive the right into Dick’s stomach. He followed it up with a swing of his sword, first hitting Dick’s and knocking him off balance more, and then again to tip Dick over entirely.

Dick craned his neck back when the tip of Jason’s blunted practice sword pressed against his neck. “You’re home early.”

“Figured you’d be going soft without me,” Jason said.

Dick pushed the blade away and climbed up to his knees; taking Jason’s offered hand to pull him up the rest of the way. He handed off his blade to the nearest guard. “I was just about to break for a meal. Care to join me?”

Jason’s eyes flicked up to the tower, knowing Talia would be waiting for his return. He _was_ back early, however, and it had been awhile since he’d had the chance to share a meal with Dick. He managed a smile and dragged his eyes back to Dick. “I could do with some of Alfred’s cooking.”

“Good,” Dick said. He wiped his brow and then grabbed his clothing, a thin white sleeveless shirt that was more suited to a servant than the prince of the castle. Dick pulled the amber pendant out to let it rest on top. “Travel far?”

“Far enough,” Jason said, not eager to go into much detail. He’d been fortunate enough to not have to tell Dick what purpose he served for Talia yet. He wasn’t eager to start now.

“Bring me back anything?” Dick asked.

“Why would I do a thing like that?” Even as he asked, Jason’s hand reached into the leather pouch strapped to his leg and pulled out a single wrapped sweet. “Here, you’ll like this. They were too sweet for me which means that you’ll be complaining that they aren’t sweet enough for you.”

Dick took it, crinkling the wrapper before popping it in his mouth.

“Just like that?” Jason asked.

Dick chewed and shrugged. “Why wait?”

From there they moved to Alfred’s kitchen and Jason could smell rosemary and chicken. Whatever it was, it would undoubtedly be the best meal he’d had since he’d left three weeks ago. Alfred could turn a turnip into a feast fit for a king. Alfred turned to the sound of footsteps and smiled, wiping his hands on the apron hanging around his neck before removing it and laying it on the table. He pulled Jason into a warm embrace. “Welcome home again, young man.”

“Thanks, Alfred,” Jason said. He returned the hug with one arm and pulled back first. “Been eating what I’ve been catching but Dickie said you might have a real meal here for me.”

“I’m sure I can stretch it for one extra plate,” Alfred said.

Dick scoffed. “Stretch it? As if you don’t always make more than enough to feed an army.”

They were finished by the time Talia’s guard made his attendance known. “Her Majesty requests your presence.” There was no doubt to which it was directed to, the guard positioned over Jason’s shoulder.

Jason carefully untangled his and Dick’s clasped hands beneath the table. “I’m on my way.”

“I’ll guide you,” the guard said.

That wasn’t an offer and Jason inclined his head towards Alfred and then Dick. “Thank you for the meal and the company.”

It was a long climb up to Talia’s tower. When Talia and Jason had first moved here, it had been unused except for storage with dusty furniture and cobwebs in the corners. She’d taken it as her own and the old man hadn’t seemed to have the heart to deny her a request for personal space. How His Majesty had never managed to sense the darkness emanating from the tower, Jason would never know. Perhaps Jason’s darkness just aligned so closely with Talia’s that he could see her for her true self in a way no one else could.

He knelt in the center of the room, bowing his head. “Your Majesty.”

“You can stand,” she said.

He approached, reaching into the same leather pouch as before and retrieving a small box. “Here.”

“Did you have any trouble retrieving it?” she asked.

“No,” Jason said.

Talia opened the box, fingertips staining red with blood from the heart held in her hand. She placed it back in the box, closed it, and latched it. From there it was placed on the shelf. Lining the other shelves were dozens of other boxes. The poor bastards, who had lost their lives to Talia’s greed for power, like trophies on her wall. She washed her hand in the bowl of water on the table beneath the shelves of hearts, turning it a faint pink and staining the white towel beside it pink when she used it to dry off. “The guards said that you visited the Prince first.” It wasn’t a question and Jason wasn’t stupid enough to incriminate himself any further by opening his mouth. “You’ve been doing that more often.”

“I didn’t think it was a problem,” Jason said. “As long as I returned with the heart…”

Talia returned to the cauldron in the center of the room. The colors swirled from blue to green and from green to a toxic shade of red. “I would prefer that you come to me before dealing with Beloved’s little urchin prince. He bucks my orders, taking off at will despite being told to remain on the castle grounds. There is no need to reward him for bad behavior.”

“Of course,” Jason said dryly. “How unfair to expect him to stay put like a caged bird, waiting until he outlives your need of him.”

Talia’s eyes narrowed right before she backhanded him. She reversed the motion, using the same hand to catch his chin and dig her nails in. The points dug in hard, threatening to make him bleed with just a touch more force. “Watch your tongue with me, boy.”

Jason swallowed the comment that rose up in his throat, staying silent long enough to appease her. The hand returned to Talia’s side and Jason rubbed his cheeks where he could still feel the imprint of her nails.

“If you’d been wise enough to heed my warnings on the subject, this wouldn’t hurt as bad as it’s going to,” Talia said.

Muscles tensed in preparation of whatever punishment Talia was going to dole out this time. “What’s going to hurt?”

Talia ignored him, walking away from the cauldron to the mirror on the wall. Large and ornate, it looked beautiful at first glance. Breathtaking, even, until one realized that its frame was made of bleached white bones. The skull, with its empty stare, made for a macabre focus at the bottom. “Mirror, mirror of blood and bone, which son of Gotham will take the throne?” The clear surface of the mirror rippled and bubbled, glowing with a strange green light that originated from within. Talia’s reflection swirled, distorting, and then solidified only with the face an older man looking back. That image, that man, had haunted Jason’s dreams from the moment he’d first seen him in Talia’s mirror as a child. “Father.”

“Talia,” Ra’s replied.

“You asked for time to consult with the powers that be and now I’m coming to you again. Richard will be of age for his coronation very soon. Have my attempts at changing the future made any difference?” Talia asked. “Will Damian rule over Gotham?”

Jason looked into the cauldron to where the red potion continued swirling on its own.

“No,” Ra’s said. “Nothing has changed. On your current path, Richard Grayson will take the throne. He will lead Gotham for many, many years and Damian will _never_ see the crown.”

Talia’s hand smacked against the stone wall, rattling the mirror. She curled her nails into the stone. “I got rid of His Majesty, isolated his urchin prince. I defiled his reputation with stories and rumors, paid off and bargained to tear him down and _still_ he rules and takes the throne from Damian” A pause. “I am left with no choice.”

“If you spill blood then you sacrifice everything,” Ra’s warned. “You will _lose_ your eternal life.”

“I will sacrifice it for my son,” Talia said. She straightened and waved her hand, the mirror returning to its crystal clear surface and Ra’s skull staring out with empty eyes. In the reflection, Talia’s eyes glowed with that same eerie green glow that had been in the mirror and it remained when she turned. “Jason.”

“Your Majesty,” Jason replied, quiet and wary.

Talia’s fingers wrapped around the knife at his hip, a black metal dagger with a serpentine blade, and forced it into Jason’s hands. His fingers instantly curled around it but his eyes searched her face. Her hand wrapped around his wrist now and from that point of connection, green spread up the lines of his veins. “You are going to take this dagger and lead Prince Richard out into the forest and carve his heart from his chest.”

Jason’s eyes widened and he yanked back on his arm. This time, when Talia squeezed, her nails drew blood. “No! Your Majesty-“

“You will bring his heart back to me,” Talia said. “You will not warn him.”

“Talia,” Jason said, using her name this time instead. She couldn’t do this to him. She couldn’t make him kill his best friend, his _only_ friend.

“And then, when this is over, you will know the wisdom of heading my warnings,” Talia said. She let go, all at once, and then flicked the blood off her fingertips. Spots of it landed on the pure white of her dress.

Jason concentrated everything in him to let go of the blade, drop it or throw it across the room. His fingers never relaxed and his knees shook under the pressure of his inner battle to fight the control of Talia’s words. Magic was insidious and Talia’s was downright evil. Jason collapsed to his knees, bracing his free hand against the stone floor. “Please.”

“Go,” Talia said. “Return with his heart.”

Jason’s jaw clenched with determination but his sight grew dim, overwhelmed by the faint green glow invading his vision. Talia’s powers taking over, her magic controlling him. Jason had no choice but to reply, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Condemning Dick to die because Jason was not strong enough to fight.

Both princes were in the library. Dick leaned over Damian’s shoulder and aided him in what looked to be arithmetic from where Jason was standing in the doorway. “Dick?”

Jason’s mere presence earned him a warm smile. “Is Talia done with you already?”

Damian looked up, little mouth twisting into a severe frown that he could have only picked up from his mother. It looked out of place on someone so young. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“Dick, can you come with me?” Jason asked. In his mind he was screaming. In his mind he was roaring at Dick to run, to get away while he still could. But out of his mouth came Talia’s orders. “Can we talk?”

Dick ate it up like flies and honey. He ruffled Damian’s hair. “I’ll return soon, Damian. Finish the problems and we’ll go over them when I get back. Sound reasonable?”

“Not in the slightest. I fail to see how my mother’s pet takes priority,” Damian muttered.

Dick only pinched Damian’s cheek and walked away. Damian rubbed his cheek and glared at Dick before returning to his math problems. Jason closed the door behind him. He focused his energy into guarding his expression, unable to hint and trying to swallow back the guilt knowing that Damian would be waiting for Dick. Dick, who would never come back after leaving with Jason.

It reminded him too much of the way Dick had just collapsed to his knees in the forest. Damian would do the same, when he found Dick’s butchered body where Jason would have to leave it lie.

“Where’s your sword?” Jason asked.

Dick glanced down at his hip. “Oh. I must have taken it off in the library. It’s not a big deal.”

“We’re going out into the woods,” Jason countered.

“I have you to protect me.” Dick slugged his shoulder.

Jason swallowed the lump in his throat. He led them away from the castle, down the dirt paths to where the trees lined the main path to the lake.

“What did you want to talk about?” Dick asked.

Jason wanted to talk about getting Dick to safety. He wanted to tell him about all the lies that Talia had been telling since the first time she’d met Bruce and the secrets she’d made Jason keep for her. He wanted to tell Dick that he was ordered to kill him - that if Dick ran fast enough and far enough maybe Jason wouldn’t be able to catch him. Maybe Dick wouldn’t have to die. Jason wanted to tell him that he didn’t want to kill him, that he’d spend the rest of his life trying to make Talia kill him and leave him dead this time.

“I love you,” Jason said. That was Talia’s magic. It was also the truth, in a way that Jason might not have totally accepted himself until just now. But this was Talia’s magic curling his tongue in just the right way. Jason kept walking, not even realizing right away that Dick had stopped.

“Jason…” Dick said. He wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck and pulled him close enough for their noses to touch.

The blade in Jason’s hand was heavy. Lifting it was a strain on Jason’s arm from the muscles screaming with the effort of his resistance. Inevitably, however, the tip pressed against Dick’s back and Jason closed his eyes. Just a quick push in and it would be over, though Jason hesitated to stab Dick through the back.

Dick stilled, leaning into Jason and away from the tip of the blade digging in between his shoulders.

Jason’s grip shifted on the dagger he was currently jabbing into Dick’s back. Not hard enough to really hurt him but there was no denying what was happening. If Dick had ever had a chance of getting away, it was gone now with Jason’s arm wrapped around him. Dick cleared his throat. “Talia?”

Jason searched for words but had to settle for nodding.

Dick pressed his face into Jason’s neck. “Did she kill Bruce?”

“I don’t know,” Jason said honestly. “She usually sends me for that and I didn’t… it wasn’t me, Dick.”

“I believe you. Did you mean what you said?” Dick asked.

“I love you,” Jason repeated. “I _love_ you.”

Dick nodded. His fists balled up, pressing into the back of Jason’s neck. A hard breath left Dick’s chest and Jason felt him, unbelievably, relax. “It’s okay. Just do it.”

“Dick-“

“It’s okay,” Dick said. “I know this isn’t your fault.”

Dick was his best friend and the love his life. He had been the first person to look at him beyond his place beside Talia. Dick had taught Jason how to swim, how to ride a horse, how to climb a tree and get a scraped knee that they snuck to Alfred to bandage because they’d both been told hours before to stay out of the trees by Bruce. He was a smile every time Jason came home and a gift bought from whatever faraway land that Talia had sent him to.

He was Jason’s home, and Talia couldn’t take away the only home he had left.

“You’re only going to have a minute,” Jason whispered. Dick’s head snapped up to look at him. “Run as far and as fast as you can. Run away from the castle and never look back.”

“I can’t leave you, Jason,” Dick said. “I won’t leave you.”

“Either you run or you die,” Jason said. “Either way you’re going to leave me. Don’t let that be in vain.”

Those damn blue eyes were too expressive, too openly honest. They shone with the grief Dick felt and then he was leaning up to kiss Jason on the lips. His lips moved, still pressed against Jason’s. “I’ll find a way to come back and I’ll save you.”

The knife dropped from Jason’s hands. Before it even hit the ground Dick was bolting away from him and Jason’s body instantly tightened with pain, Talia’s magic screaming at the betrayal. His hand wrapped around the blade again and his veins pulsed with a bright green as he stood.

Dick, thank God, was gone. Jason raced down the path, searching for him with no choice but to at least attempt to fulfill Talia’s orders. The small mutiny he’d managed was a short lived thing. Looking up and down the shore, he found nothing but gentle waves lapping at the ground and the endless expanse of forest for Dick to get himself to safety in.

Jason let out a soft sigh of relief.

Behind him a growl made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and Jason slowly turned to find a wolf on the pathway. The teeth were bared, back arched and tail standing straight. The creature took a single step forward and Jason brought his weapon up for protection.

He’d thought that Talia would murder him for his infraction, kill him for letting Dick go. Maybe there was a better solution, one that would give Dick the freedom to find a new life out there without being hunted.

Maybe Talia could be fooled and the thought made Jason swap his grip on the blade.

~~~

Hours passed, Dick’s feet ached for the first few hours of running and then grew numb. On the other side of the lake was a mountain. He’d swam the width of the lake, breaking the surface in time to see Jason engage the wolf who had approached him and cut something out of its chest. He’d reached the other side, clothes heavy and wet and his limbs already complaining from the strain, and ran.

He was still damp when the snow started falling. The mountain wasn’t an easy climb. He’d made the climb a few times with Bruce before the man had died, though not once since Bruce’s death. The plan being that, if Talia came looking, hopefully she’d think he’d have opted for an easier route. He hadn’t thought about the snow. With the weather growing colder, more of the mountain fell to permanent winter. Light snow and cold, hard ground became forceful gusts of icy wind and slogging through several inches of snow while shivering in his now frozen clothes.

Shelter. Dick needed to find shelter. He knew there were caves up here and if he could find one to sleep in and let his clothes dry, he’d be fine. Bruce and he had stayed in one during a climb once. It hadn’t been this cold, Dick was quite sure, but Dick had been aiming for that cave since he’d realized he’d need to find someplace relatively warm for the night.

It had been awhile since he’d been up here, though, and the cold was sinking into his bones. It made it hard to recall just what path Bruce had taken to get them to the cave.

Maybe it was just a little bit farther.

A whistle in the trees sent his heartbeat fluttering wild in his chest. He spun, searching for a source of it, and finally settled on a tiny canary on a nearby stump. It flapped its wings only to have the wind buffer it back down onto the stump.

“You’re as f-far away fr-from home-me as I am,” Dick said, teeth chattering.

Dick tripped over a stone and landed on his hands and knees. He yanked his hands out of the snow as the brutal cold stung his skin. He knew there was a cave here somewhere. There had to be, or Dick was going to freeze to death on the side of this mountain. Him and this bird, that Dick felt empathy for being stuck up here on this mountain and suffering the blistering wind. He stepped forward to grab the bird. Maybe he could take it to the same cave and let it get warm. His next step hit ice, foot sliding and then catching on some root or snow covered brush. He lost his footing and his arms flailed in search of something to grab. His fingers brushed against a bare branch but missed and he hit the snow instead, sliding down the bank and then dropping off the edge ten feet to a clearing of stone below. He grunted as a sharp pain exploded in his shoulder and he struggled up onto his good arm, crawling and then dropping face first into the snow. The freezing cold was a shock to his system and Dick’s eyes drifted closed for a moment. Moving hurt and the cold made him feel sluggish on top of it.

Maybe closing his eyes for a moment wouldn’t be a bad thing.

Dick’s cheek, pressed against the ice and snow, was going numb by the time he sank into unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

Blood dripped onto the floor from Jason’s hand when he pulled the heart out. The organ was still warm to the touch and Jason thrust it into Talia’s hands. It splattered blood all over her white dress and covered her hands in the same incriminating stain.

“Your prize,” Jason spat.

She cradled it in both hands before curling her fingers around it. “I expected it to feel…” She dug her nails in, squirting blood out and down her fingers. “No matter.”

“What are going to tell the kingdom?” Jason demanded.

“Nothing,” Talia said. “I’m going to let him tell them.”

“Him?” Jason asked.

The heart pulsed green, pumping once and then again. Slowly building up to the rapid heartbeat of the wolf before the poor creature had died. Talia mumbled something in a foreign language. Jason had heard her speak it more than once but he had no idea what it meant or even where the language originated from. Knowing how old she was and how old her father had been before he was killed, there was a good chance that it was so ancient that no one else even spoke it anymore.

Fog rolled away from Talia, green hued wisps of smoke that curled out from her feet and then drew together. The growl of the wolf could be heard before it solidified, the creature appearing as if the body wasn’t decaying in the woods.

Jason stepped back, away from the creature. It turned and their shared glowing green eyes met. This time around, the wolf recognized a fellow creature of death – brought to life with Talia’s magic. She squeezed the heart in her hand, hard enough for the wolf to whimper and lay down on the floor. “What… is _this_?”

“It appears to be a wolf,” Jason said. This was a mistake. He never should have brought the heart back. He’d hoped to spare Dick some time, let him get the chance to run at the very least. He never expected Talia to attempt to bring him back.

Talia screamed at him and then stalked across the room. The smack echoed against the stone and Jason could feel the wetness of blood against his cheek where her hand had left a bloody red handprint. “How dare you try to deceive me? I’ve given you everything, brought you back to life, and you repay me with disobedience and lies?”

Jason grabbed her wrist when she pulled back to hit him again. “You should have sent someone else to kill him, Your Majesty.”

Talia ripped her arm away. Splattered with blood and anger fueling her eyes, Talia looked a woman possessed by the very same dark creatures that her father dealt with wherever he was on the other side of the mirror. She placed her hand over his chest. “The greatest mistake I ever made was giving you back your heart. Allow me to take it back.”

Talia took Jason’s blade out of the sheathe and then wrapped a surprisingly strong hand around his throat. There was no point in fighting, Talia had too much control anyways and Jason had used up his strength to rebel when he’d given Dick the chance to run away. It wasn’t a decision that he regretted. Her arm pulled back, dagger aimed for his chest, and then she stopped. The dagger lowered but the hand around his neck _squeezed_. “No. You can still serve me well, Jason. If all else fails he will come back for you, and someone will need to take the blame for his death once I’ve succeeded.”

Jason shoved Talia’s hand away. He got as far as inhaling much needed air and then the cool press of metal tightened around his neck. Jason grabbed the chain and pulled with both hands but the bolt to the wall held and the links glowed green with every yank. “Leave him alone, Talia. He ran. He is no threat to you now.”

“You’d be amazed what someone will do for love,” Talia said. “And the boy has loved you for so very long.” She turned on her heel. “This is all still salvageable.”

Jason pulled again. “You’re crazy.”

“A mother always wants what’s best for her child,” Talia said. “One day… one day Damian with _thank_ me.”

She stepped up to the mirror, hand waving before it. “Show me the Prince.”

The surface of the mirror rippled and Jason watched with growing horror at the way Dick struggled to climb up the mountainside. He stumbled and fell, sliding down the embankment and dropping onto a hard stone slab. Jason’s chest ached. “Dick…”

Talia slid her hand into the wolf’s pelt, gripping the fur tightly. Jason recognized that green pulse of Talia’s magic sinking into the creature’s very blood to control it. “Go find Prince Richard and destroy him.”

The wolf whimpered once, no obedient instinct in a predatory animal like this, and then the magic sank in. It bared its teeth and growled, bolting towards the window and phasing right through it to land on the empty castle grounds below. Jason moved to the window just in time to see the wolf race at full speed down the path leading to the lake.

The snap of one of Talia’s ornate boxes closing around the wolf’s heart dragged his attention back to her. “That creature will take care of what you couldn’t.” Dick was still lying in the snow, moving less now. Jason swallowed. “That’s if the elements don’t take him before it gets there.”

“You’re going to pay for this,” Jason growled.

Talia waved the image away. Dick disappeared and was replaced by Talia’s cold, emotionless expression. Her eyes tightened and then she turned and faced Jason. “Not today.”

~~~

Dick shifted to brace his hand against the ground and try to push himself up. His shoulder screamed in pain, joint giving out beneath him. Pain sparked up in his shoulder, running into his chest and down to his fingertips like trapped lightning. He rolled over onto his back, listening to the sound of the nearby fire. The pops and cracks of the wood being consumed by the flames would have been enough, but Dick could actually feel the warmth on his face. Considering the biting cold he could remember before he’d succumbed to exhaustion and the cold, it was a miracle that Dick was even waking up.

A small hand pressed against his cheek, cupping it gently. The other hand pushed hair out of his face. Dick’s eyes felt heavy and gritty, making it hard to want to open them. At least until that little hand hauled off and smacked him in the face. He started sitting up before the same small hands pushed him back down.

From the way the world blurred, Dick wouldn’t have been surprised to find that he had a concussion. He could just about make out a small, human head and the hand before it came down on his cheek again with sharp smack. “A dwarf?” There weren’t many this side of the mountain, and there was no way for Dick to have possibly made it to the other side of the mountain.

Right?

“We tend to call her a child.” The voice was deep and male.

Dick rubbed his eyes and tried to refocus on the little blurry form in front of his face. The details grew sharper and Dick realized that the person slapping him was indeed a young girl. Maybe eight, at the most, and even that seemed like it was pushing it. She wore dirty pants and a dirty shirt, well fit but it was quite obvious that she’d either rolled in the dirt or she had been out here in the woods for at least a few days. Maybe both. On the other side of the fire were two more people. They sat close, with their legs pressed together from knee to hip. A male, redheaded with narrowed, suspicious eyes, and a woman, clearly of some kind of Asian descent who was twirling a knife between her fingers – she reeked of danger and displeasure at Dick’s presence but at least the man managed a smile though his eyes never let go of their wariness.

“Thank you,” Dick said.

“We could hardly leave you to freeze to death out there,” the man said. He removed the food from over the fire. With a knife and some effort, he was able to cut off the leg of the creature. “You’re lucky we found you at all. Heard a bird out there, whistling up a storm. Turned out just to be a canary which doesn’t exactly make for a filling meal. Speaking of meals, I don’t know how long you’ve been out here but if you’re hungry you’re free to share in ours.”

Dick hesitated, not eager to take food away from people who needed it. “I’ll be fine if there’s not enough.”

“There’s plenty,” the man said. “I appreciate your concern but I’m a damn good hunter. I catch what we eat and there’s plenty to go around.”

“ _You_ catch?” the woman asked.

The man shrugged and quirked his lips into a small smile. “Alright. We catch our food together.”

Dick took the food after that. Until the taste of meat hit his tongue he hadn’t realized how hungry he was. Now his stomach cramped with hunger. Dick had no idea how long he’d been in the snow before someone had found him. Must not have been very much long, though, as he didn’t seem to have gotten frostbite or died out there from hypothermia.

“My name is Roy,” the redhead said. Dick took his outstretched hand shook in greeting. “The woman is Jade. Lian is our baby girl over there.”

At her name, Lian lifted her head up and waved shyly. After, she darted around the clearing to hide behind the woman, Jade. Dick managed a smile at that. “My name is Dick.”

“Pleasure, Dick,” Roy said. “So what brings you out here? I have to say you’re kind of lucky we didn’t have to chip frozen pieces off of you. You’re not really dressed for this weather.”

“I wasn’t expecting to be out here in the snow when I got dressed this morning,” Dick said. He swallowed the bite in his mouth.

“Attacked?” Jade asked. Her eyes were narrowed on him. “Or did _you_ attack the wrong person?”

“No,” Dick assured her. “Well, I _was_ attacked but not up here. I ran from my attacker and, at the time, it seemed like the smart thing to do. The climb is hard. Either it would slow them down or they wouldn’t expect me to be taking that path and look elsewhere.”

“It slowed you down too,” Roy pointed out. “You were starting to look a little blue by the time we got to you.”

Jade lifted the little girl up onto her knee. “I told Roy that it was best to leave you, and I’m starting to believe I was right to suggest it.”

“Jade!” Roy exclaimed.

Her expression never wavered from cool and collected. “No, Roy. This is dangerous, especially if he has someone after him. If they catch up, do you want them to attack us because of our proximity? Do you want them to attack Lian?”

“Of course not, Jade,” Roy said. “I’m not just going to kick him away, though. Leave him stranded out here in the cold.”

“This man is not our problem,” Jade said. She rubbed the girl’s back with her hand, meeting Dick’s eyes. “It is nothing against you, but this is my family and my family comes first.”

“It’s fine,” Dick said. “I understand. If you just give me a day at the most then I’ll be happy to get out of your hair. But I could use a safe place to sleep for the night.”

“You did enough sleeping in the snow,” Jade said evenly.

“Jade, please,” Roy said.

Dick curled his hands into fists. “If it’s a problem, tell me. I’ll leave now.”

“It’s a problem,” Jade said.

“It’s _not_ a problem,” Roy said. Dick stood anyways and then Roy pushed down on his shoulder. “Stop. Jade is… her heart is in the right place but she’s wrong in this case. We can keep you here, at least for the night. I might have some extra clothes that aren’t quite as conspicuous as yours and a coat for you. Finish your meal. _Sleep_. Then we’ll discuss what happens.”

“Roy,” Jade said. The warning in her tone made it clear that she disagreed, enough for Dick to question whether it wasn’t selfish to stay here. After all, if Talia were to catch up what’s to say that she wouldn’t slaughter these people too?

Dick shook his head. “She’s right. I’m bringing danger to your family. I appreciate the offer but-”

“But nothing,” Roy said. “You’re right and she’s right, but it’s no more dangerous than anything else the three of us have faced. We’ve had our own hardships and there were people there to help us.” He turned to Jade. “It’s time to pay that back. We’re helping him.”

“Roy-“

“We’re helping him,” Roy repeated, cutting her off. “Dick, you are welcome to stay here for the night. I would prefer if you did.”

“Stay!” Lian shouted, covering her mouth and stifling her giggles. “Stay! Stay!”

Roy’s eyebrow rose. “From the mouth of babes.”

The anger in Jade’s expression was overwhelming and Dick knew that he could impose his stay no longer than the night like Roy was suggesting, but he found himself nodding. “Who am I to deny such a charming young woman?”

More giggles and the girl turned to hide her face in her mother’s shirt.

“Eat,” Roy prompted. He stepped back, sitting down beside Jade again. “Maybe you can tell us what has you racing up into the mountains despite the risks involved.”

Dick took a bite to give him time to consider. He rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand when he finished swallowing. “I don’t know that you’d believe me even if I did tell you.”

“We’ve heard some strange ones,” Roy said. “And we’ve lived some even stranger. Give us a shot.”

Dick picked off a chunk of meat with his fingers and licked the grease off of his fingers. “Well, how familiar are you with the royal family of Gotham?” In his head, he could nearly hear Jason chastising him for telling the truth. Opening himself to danger.

There was a twitch to Roy’s lips that had questions on the tip of Dick’s tongue. “This _is_ part of Gotham.”

Gotham’s territory stretched on for miles and miles. Far beyond the mountain, which was part of the reason that Bruce had always traveled so much. It might have been safer within the walls of the castle and the limits of the capital but Bruce had always believed that a good ruler involved himself in their country. He always went the extra mile, always threw himself into his duties as king one hundred percent.

Dick had always admired that about him. He reached up and grabbed the amber pendant around his neck, squeezing tightly. “I earned myself a place on the Queen’s bad side. She sent her man to kill me and instead, he let me go.”

“I almost admire you. It must take quite the foul to earn the wrath of a queen,” Roy said.

“Not as much as you’d think,” Dick said.

Jade shifted the child, laying the girl’s head against her shoulder. “How did you manage that?”

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” Dick said. “It probably had something to do with my birthday coming up. I should have expected. She always struck me as hungry for power.”

“Your birthday?” Roy asked.

Dick nodded. “I turn twenty five in the spring. It would have been my coronation, finally of age to take my father’s throne.”

Jade’s hand stilled on the child’s back. “You’re the prince, the eldest. The gypsy brat.”

Dick’s lip curled at the term. “Roma, but yes. Or I was. I’m sure that Talia will be telling the kingdom that I abandoned my crown due to the pressure of the throne or that I died in the same kind of horrific accident that my father did.”

“You’re just going to let her take the kingdom from you?” Roy asked.

“Of course not,” Dick said. “But it won’t stop her from spreading her lies like a disease through the kingdom. A rebellion takes time and she is in possession of the people I care about as long as she has control of that castle. I have to be careful and that means letting her get away with telling them whatever she wants. If I move too quickly she could find me again and if she finds me again, she will kill me for sure.” Or have Jason kill him, if she hadn’t killed Jason already. “I don’t know that her man could stop his blade a second time.”

“Why did he let you go?” Jade asked. Her eyes searched his face in a way so that Dick _expected_ when Jade asked, “Money?”

She wasn’t the first to see Dick as a chance at a big payday.

“Love,” Dick said. “He was- _is_ the love of my life. She has some kind of magic that she was using to control him. He managed to get control but only enough to give me a head start and when he couldn’t find me I saw him head back towards the castle.”

Roy shook his head. “That’s….”

“Quite the story,” Jade said.

The insinuation that it was just that – a _story_ – made Dick’s back stiffen. “It’s what happened.”

“Jade,” Roy said softly.

Jade’s response was out before Roy even finished saying her name. “No.”

“We have to take him back,” Roy said.

The food dropped onto the snow frosted ground as Dick stood up. “Take me back?”

“Not to the castle,” Roy assured him. “Back home. Our home.”

“We left for a reason,” Jade said. “Point him in the direction and then we can continue on our way.”

“There had better be an explanation coming,” Dick said.

Jade stood, child still cradled against her chest and shoulder. “What makes you think that you can demand anything from us? We owe no explanation to a fallen prince. You have no throne, no crown, and no castle. We could leave you in the cold and the dark and there would be no repercussions for our actions. If your body was ever found it would be long after we had left this place.” Her hand curled tighter into the child’s back, the vicious claws of a mother protecting her young. “It’s more likely that there would be nothing left for anyone to find. What remained after the spring thaw came would be consumed by the hibernating animals breaking their fasts with your carcass.”

“Jade,” Roy snapped. The woman turned her head to him slowly. “We are taking him back.”

“If you get my family killed, I will personally execute you myself in the most painful way that I can think of,” Jade said. “I can be very creative.”

“No doubt,” Dick said. “I have no desire to get your family killed.”

“Doesn’t mean you won’t be responsible,” she said. “Take Lian, Roy. I’m going to gather some more firewood and then set up camp for the evening.”

The child only made a soft little sigh as she was transferred from one parent to the other. Jade stalked off, disappearing between the trees. Roy gently patted Lian’s back. “Jade is very protective, in her own way, and we were on our way away from Starling. Now we’re taking you back.”

“It’s okay,” Dick said. “I get it. I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t blame either of you if you left me out here or if you’d left me up in the snow to freeze to death. It’s not your fault and it never was.”

“But it does affect my family,” Roy said. “I might not like them all the time and I made the best decision I could leaving them behind, but they don’t deserve to be slaughtered by the Queen and when this becomes a war they will be. If I take you to Starling, maybe you stand a better chance. Jade knows that too.”

But this, Roy and Lian, they _were_ her family. Dick could tell and he’d only known her a short time.

Roy smiled, tight, and nodded towards the food on the ground. “I can get you something fresh.”

“No,” Dick said. “This is fine. I turned it up onto the floor and it’s only snow. I’ve suffered worse conditions.” Back when he’d travelled once or twice rarely with Bruce.. Sometimes Bruce’s travels had taken them to locations suffering the worst sorts of conditions. Bruce wouldn’t demand more than his people were getting. “Thank you, though.”

“Finish eating and then we’ll be bedding down at camp for the evening. Tomorrow I’ll take you to Starling,” Roy said.

Dick nodded, bending down to pick up the bird off the snow and pick off the meat from its bones. The trek would undoubtedly be long and hard and Dick wasn’t willing to attempt that on an empty stomach. Not if he could help it, at least.

Starling. Dick could begin to get back to Jason and save him from Talia. There was actually a chance.

~~~

The last thing Jason expected was to be dragged out of the castle. Talia had gotten rid of the chain hooking him to the wall and replaced it with shackles. One set keeping his ankles together and one set chaining together his wrists. Then she’d left him with her guards who were now roughly dragging him along. They seemed blind to the fact that, with the shackles around his ankles, it was nearly impossible for Jason to walk as fast as they were dragging him. He stumbled more than once, the toes of his boots catching on the uneven stone.

The tower was dark most of the time, with the curtains closed the room was left pitch black nearly all the time except for the supernatural glow of her potions and the candles set on the sconces on the walls. Outside, Jason blinked away tears at the brightness, blue skies and sun shining and glinting off the light frost on the ground from the coming winter. His eyes stung but he forced them to focus past the tears building, make out the sea of faces settled over the dingy clothes of working class men and women.

Talia stood before them, raised some by the steps. “Men and women of my late husband’s country, I am afraid to have to share some most unfortunate news.”

The guards shoved him down, a hand on each shoulder to push him into a kneeling position. The chains rattled and Jason hunched over from the pressure on his shoulders.

“I have discovered a betrayer in our midst,” she said. Her hand motioned towards a guard who handed her a piece of clothing. Jason recognized it as a pale green shirt that he’d seen Dick wear before. Now Talia unfolded it and showcased the dark stain of blood on it and the hole that resembled that which would be created by a sword. “And that betrayer took His Royal Highness Crown Prince Richard from us, a death too cruel for a man so kind.”

Jason’s jaw clenched. Just this morning she’d been watching the mirror, getting a glimpse of Dick sleeping near a fire and cursing that somehow he’d been saved from the elements. Jason knew he was alive because Talia would have bragged about her victory. That just meant that this show with the bloody shirt and Jason’s shackled body kneeling at her side was for the audience she’d no doubt ordered into the kingdom.

Sharp fingernails dug into Jason’s scalp, pulling his hair and forcing his head to tip back. “Prince Richard’s killer.”

The crowd roared. Dick was well loved. Jason had travelled all over the kingdom and seen the way that people were genuinely loyal to Bruce and Dick. His Majesty King Thomas and Her Majesty Queen Martha had been well respected for their work to improve the kingdom, but His Majesty King Bruce and His Royal Highness Prince Richard had only improved on that.

Despite the late King’s sometimes poor relations with nearby kingdoms, Dick had always been good at charming the foreign visitors. It brought prosperity to a kingdom that had been suffering civil war on and off for a very long time.

“With Prince Richard’s passing, it is time for true blood to take the throne,” Talia said. “My son, Damian, should be your king. I have ruled to the best of my ability, awaiting Richard’s coronation but it is not my place to rule my Beloved’s country. I am sure that His Royal Highness Prince Damian will be a good leader for all of you, assisted by his advisors and myself where I am able. Long live His Royal Highness Prince Damian!”

Dick was good with people, charming and delightful, but Damian was the same child who had once dumped a bowl of soup on a visiting noble simply because he used a crop against his horse. He did not demand the same loyalty and devotion that Dick had, but perhaps Talia’s words painting Damian as a reluctant leader would rally the kingdom behind him.

It was smart. Jason hadn’t expected anything less from the woman.

“He will have his coronation in two days during which we will open with the execution of His Royal Highness Prince Richard’s murderer,” Talia said. “Prince Damian will take the throne with justice having been served, paving the way for a true and just king.”

The crowd was eating it up. The blood king, the blood king. Never mind that they’d have cheered Dick during his coronation, that it hadn’t mattered that Dick didn’t share Bruce’s blood – now they wanted a blood king and Talia was only more than happy to provide one.

Jason ripped his head away from her hand and Talia snapped her fingers at the guards. “Take him back. Lock him up again.”

Up in the tower, Jason could hear the crowd cheering still. Shouting and applauding as Talia manipulated them into a frenzy calling for Jason’s death and the rise of their child king. He could only imagine what Damian thought of this. He hadn’t seen him since he’d left with Dick that day but he knew that despite Dick’s initial animosity towards Damian they had become close. After Bruce’s death, Dick had latched onto the man’s son. Trained him, taught him, played with him when Talia’s never ending demands for perfection weren’t dragging Damian away from his childhood.

At some point the crowd grew quiet and the door opened with Talia stepping in. The train of her green gown dragged across the stone. “What did you think?”

Jason kicked his leg out, rattling the chains. “Don’t mind me, Talia. I’m just awaiting my execution.”

“It’s no less than what you deserve,” Talia said. “I gave you everything, I gave you back your _life_. To betray me after that, I look forward to watching you die.”

“Does Damian know how conditional your love is?” Jason asked.

“Everything I do is for my son,” Talia replied. “You’ve never had a child, you’ll never understand.”

Now he would never have the chance. Not that Jason had ever really expected to have any children. Even discounting that he’d died once, come back, and might not even be _capable_ of fathering a child – he’d fallen in love with Dick early on and only had eyes for the prince since then. He’d resigned himself to loving the man from his place at Talia’s side, knowing that Dick would no doubt go on to marry a noble girl and have a bunch of little brats to run around the castle.

At least until Jason had taken him out to the lake to kill him, and Dick had implied that those feelings were reciprocated.

Jason leaned his head against the wall. “At least I’ll die knowing he got away from you.” Talia laughed. “What?”

“Even if my wolf doesn’t succeed in ripping the urchin prince apart, word of your execution will spread. He will hear and he will come back. Take some solace in knowing that I bury you together in the same, shallow grave, Jason. My son will rule and neither you nor Grayson will stand in his way.”

~~~

Roy had been generous enough to share a spare pair of pants and a shirt. It scratched against his skin but Dick could hardly complain when it was warmer than the thin, expensive fabric of his own shirt that they’d let burn in the fire pit before putting out this morning.

“Thank you again, Roy,” Dick said.

“Don’t mention it,” Roy replied. He had the little girl on his shoulders now, she having complained no more than an hour in about her legs being tired. From her parents’ reactions, this was neither new nor surprising. “You just make sure you take that witch down as soon as you get the chance.”

“That’s the plan,” Dick said. He shifted the bag on his shoulder. It had appeared to have the food stored in there, wrapped in salt filled linens to keep the meat preserved. It wasn’t much but Dick hoped helping some in the transport would make up for sending them back in the same direction they’d come from just to help him. “You mentioned that you had to leave your family. What are they like?”

Roy glanced back at him. “They’re good people. We just don’t see things the same way sometimes, or ever. My father likes to say that I don’t know how to be responsible, not that he’s the best person to judge me for that. He’s lucky to be in the position he is right now, and my being responsible shouldn’t have to be following in his footsteps.” He reached up and tapped the girl in her nose lightly. “I have more important things to worry about.”

Dick smiled, and out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw Jade smile as well.

The girl squeezed her arms around Roy’s neck even tighter, resting her chin on the top of his head with a quiet sigh.

The walls of Starling looked familiar and somehow completely new. The whole area had suffered a natural disaster several years back, destruction everywhere and the Lord of the fief absent. Dick had come to the caste, empty of its nobles, at Bruce’s side and personally helped in the clean-up as they recovered whatever people were still alive and brought them to help.

Lord Oliver had returned a week into clean up. He’d been rather drunk for ten in the morning but he’d sobered up quickly at the sight of the destruction. Bruce had been furious, barely keeping his temper as he dealt with the man.

The guards at the gate stepped forward. “Announce yourself.”

Roy lifted Lian off of his shoulders and set her on the ground beside Jade. “Wait here, Dick.” He jogged over to them. “Niall, it’s me. I have Jade and Lian with me, and a friend.”

“Roy?” the guard asked. “What are you doing out here? Your father has been worried since you went missing two days ago.”

“Let me handle him,” Roy said.

“What about this friend? You vouch for him?” Niall asked.

Roy nodded. “I wouldn’t have let him near Jade and Lian if I didn’t.”

The guard didn’t hesitate at Roy’s word, raising his hand and waving to signal the others.“Raise the gate!”

Starling was easily one of the largest fiefs of the kingdom. The Queen family, direct descendants of the first ruler of Gotham before the Wayne line took the throne, had been gifted a large plot of land in the hands of a bastard son of the king several hundred years ago. It was supposed to be a sort of consolation prize to make up for the throne being handed to the apparent rightful heir. Only rightful for the blood running in his veins, but such a thing mattered little now.

The castle was large and largely rebuilt from the initial disaster. The stones were still new, clean and evenly placed unlike the much more ancient castle Dick had grown up in was worn at this point. The green, black, and silver colors snapped in the wind high above them at the top of the castle and decorated houses and market stalls in the miles between them and the door leading into the castle.

“Now to convince Lord Oliver to see me,” Dick murmured.

Roy’s lips twitched. “You shouldn’t have any problem with that, Your Highness.”

Dick got as far as opening his mouth before Lian shot past them, racing up between the market stalls and the buildings and agilely dodging the masses of people.

“Lian!” Jade called.

Dick tightened his grip on the bag on his shoulder, jogging after Jade and Roy who were rushing after their daughter.

Talia’s rules about Dick leaving the castle grounds, ordering him to stay where he was _safe_ as if she’d ever cared about any of it, had kept him out of the capital surrounding the castle on nearly every side. Dick hadn’t really realized how much he missed the bustle of the city until now.

On every side there were bodies moving, people getting from one place to the other in a rush. Shoulders bumped into his and carts pushed past him. They rumbled over the uneven path worn by the crowds walking up and down the roads each day – the constant motion and the constant noise of a village living and breathing to make a life and home for the people inside.

A far cry of difference from Dick’s last visit. Clearly Oliver had made some changes. Bruce would have been proud.

Dick broke through the crowd, just this side of the well-kept hedges acting as a sort of fence to the castle itself. Ahead of him, Lian dashed through the open doors of the castle with Roy and Jade chasing right after her. Dick jogged away from the crowd without a glance back, tilting his head as he got a closer look at the castle.

The guards didn’t stop him from entering but that was hardly unheard of and, sure enough, just inside the main hall there were several servants mopping the floors of several different sized dusty shoeprints. The mark of a Lord letting in his people to make appeals for assistance or justice, another change that Dick was sure would have made Bruce proud.

Down the hallway, Lian’s giggles echoed off the stone and Dick picked up pace knowing that where Lian was, his reluctant guides were sure to be following.

At the edge of the throne room, Dick came to a stop. Lord Oliver knelt down to pick up Lian and held her up in the air. Her legs kicked wildly until he pulled her closer to rub their noses together. She was clearly familiar with this by the way she returned the affectionate act and then wrapped her arms around Lord Oliver’s neck to squeeze him in a hug. “Missed you, Ollie.”

“I missed you too, pumpkin,” he said. “You and your daddy worried me sick.”

Roy rolled his eyes and Jade stepped up beside him, arm settling around his waist. Roy didn’t respond to it, however, which said more than any words could have said.

“What made you come back?” Lord Oliver asked.

“I encountered a problem,” Roy said.

“What problem?” Lady Dinah asked, walking past her husband to embrace Roy.

Dick waved to them when Roy pointed at him and the four remaining sets of eyes looked his way. “Ollie, maybe you remember him. You know, unless you were too drunk at that point to be capable of making any memories.”

“I don’t really think you’re the person who gets to judge me,” Oliver said. He handed Lian back to her father as Dick stepped into the great hall. “You’re a long way from home at this point, Your Royal Highness.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice but to get far away from the capital,” Dick said. “I could use some assistance.”

The Lord looked him over, settling on the ill-fitting clothes and the bag on his shoulder. Dick could feel the dirt that had accumulated on his face, knew he had to look rougher than he normally did. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then you can explain just what is so important that my son abandoned his great escape to bring you here.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Dick said.

“Would you take His Royal Highness to the baths, Roy?” Lady Dinah asked.

Jade’s arm tightened around Roy’s waist. “Actually, Jade, Lian, and I should be going again.”

“At least this time I have forewarning,” Lord Oliver said. He swore when Lady Dinah smacked him in the back of his head.

She turned to the three. “Please. Roy, Jade, it is important to me. Stay for a meal, at least, and a night. I’m sure you could use a good night’s sleep and you don’t get that out there in the forest. Let us prepare you better before you leave. If you truly are determined to go, give us the chance to give you supplies before you go.”

Roy glanced at Jade. The woman never broke eye contact with Lady Dinah but eventually relented with a slight incline of her head to the noblewoman. Roy sighed at that and then kissed Lian’s cheek before setting her down. “Alright, Dick. Let’s get you to the baths then.”

“Take one yourself,” Lady Dinah suggested. “I’ll take the girls to one. Then we can all sit down and enjoy a meal.”

Dick followed Roy out of the great hall, watching the girls leave out another door, and finally letting his eyes fall on Lord Oliver standing in the center alone. Then they turned down the hallway, Lord Oliver fell out of sight, and Dick returned his attention to the redhead in front of him. “You’re his eldest, right?”

“Sort of. He had a fling with a woman and Conner was born. He’s not legitimate but they don’t much care about that anymore,” Roy said. “Legitimate or not, he’s the better man to take the fief for Oliver. Of course, Ollie doesn’t see it that way. He thinks I’m running away from the family because I can’t handle the responsibility or something.” He rubbed his forehead.

“It’s okay,” Dick said. “I could tell things were kind of strained in there.”

“Could you?” Roy asked dryly. “A blind and deaf man could have sensed the tension. The worst part is that we used to be close.”

Dick thought back to those last few years with Bruce, things growing steadily worse between them only for Bruce to die just as hope was visible on the horizon. “What happened?”

“I’m not even sure I could tell you,” Roy said. “One day I woke up and I couldn’t remember the last time we hadn’t screamed at each other. He was reckless and I hadn’t made the best decisions either. We were both too irresponsible for our own good.” He shrugged. “When Jade showed up with Lian, I finally had a reason to get myself back on track. But Jade isn’t comfortable here and I don’t blame her. _I’m_ not comfortable here and I don’t have half of the reasons that Jade does.” He shook his head and then held open a door. The Starling castle was built over a natural hot spring and the steam rolled out and felt warm against his face. “Here you are.”

“Thank you,” Dick said.

“I’ll have a servant bring you some clothes,” Roy replied. He stepped back, closing the door behind Dick.

Dick pulled the clothes off, dropping them in a pile. His hand settled on the necklace hanging over his heart. After a beat, he pulled it off and set it on the rock to the side to put on after. He sank into the water with a sigh.

There was no doubt that he spent more time in the baths than he should have. Long after he’d scrubbed himself clean and made use of the natural oils provided, Dick had soaked with memories of the ice cold water and the thin, freezing air as he’d reached higher up on the mountain. The fear he’d had of freezing to death, body lost on the permanently frozen mountain forever…

Getting out was inescapable. It was Dick’s job to get together the help to go back and rescue Jason. Maybe save him and the rest of the kingdom from whatever it was that Talia was going to do. He put on the provided clothes and let the servant waiting outside for him guide him to the dining hall.

Before Talia, Bruce and Dick had held most of their meals in the smaller kitchen. It was not a decision Alfred had ever been particularly fond of, stating that the dining hall was designed so that the nobility could eat in comfort. It made Dick wonder if the Queen family similarly held rare meals here, if the ornate hall and the expansive feast were for Dick’s benefit.

They stood and waited for Dick to take a seat before joining him. Lord Oliver wiped his mouth with a cloth. “Thank you for joining us, Your Highness.”

“I’m currently on the run,” Dick said. “I think, at least for now, you can call me by my first name.”

“Just because Her Majesty has decided to commit treason against the crown doesn’t mean that we support her or that you don’t still have the Starling loyalty. Our fief came with a vow of fealty. As the rightful heir to the throne, that will always be owed to you,” Lady Dinah said.

Coming from a family who had narrowly missed out on the crown because of a decision on who was the rightful heir to the throne, it was surprising to hear that. Even more, Dick was honored. “I guess Roy caught you up?”

“He told us what you’ve told him,” Lord Oliver said.

“I told him what I knew,” Dick said. “Except for the fact that I think she may have had something to do with Bruce’s death.”

Lord Oliver curled his hand into a fist on the table. “He was a good man.”

“He was a great man,” Dick said. “And if I find out that she _did_ have something to do with it, she’ll have no safe haven from my wrath.”

“What makes you think that she was involved in Bruce’s death? I thought he was killed in an accident out in the forest,” Lady Dinah said.

“We found no body,” Dick said. “There was so much blood and his sword was left in the body of a wolf. We assumed that the remains had been carried off by the rest of the pack but now I wonder.”

“I’m concerned,” Lord Oliver started, “About what we can actually do to help. If she has the power that you say she does, then what is to stop her from controlling my knights and soldiers the moment they lift their swords for battle?”

“I don’t think she has that much power,” Dick said. “She controls a… well, a friend - but she never attempted to control me. I don’t know how her magic works but if it were as simple as that than there was no need for her to send Jason to kill me. Even if she absolutely needed me dead, controlling me to walk into the lake and drown myself or slit my own throat would have been far easier if she were capable of it.”

“I think you’re taking a chance,” Lord Oliver said. “You know nothing about her magic.”

“I have time,” Dick said. “I _have_ to take time. Find out what I can. Prepare for what I know. When I go back to the castle there’s no doubt that she’s going to put up a fight and there are people there I want to save.”

“Including her man, the one she sent to kill you,” Lord Oliver said.

“Jason,” Dick said.

“If he failed to kill you, surely she knows by this point that you’re not dead,” Lord Oliver said. Lady Dinah put her hand on his arm but it didn’t stop the man from continuing to speak. “You do realize that there’s a decent chance that she’s already had him killed?”

His heart said that wasn’t the case. Surely if Jason was dead, Dick would have _felt_ something. He would know, but all he could feel was that Jason was still out there and waiting and Dick needed to do everything in his power to find a way to save him. “There’s a chance, yes. There’s also a chance that he’s still alive and until I’m told otherwise, I have to assume that he’s waiting for me to rescue him.”

“And that’s your priority? Even if that puts the lives of my men in danger?” Lord Oliver asked.

Guilt was insidious but he pushed it aside, keeping in mind the strength it had taken from Jason to fight Talia’s control. “Even then. This is my family you’re talking about. If the knights are as loyal as you say they are, then _this_ is what they were designed to fight for. My family, my blood, my kingdom – and this _is_ a fight for the kingdom. Whatever Talia’s goals, she is attempting to kill me so that she will have power over the throne.”

“But you’ve admitted that your priority is this man. Would you run into battle at all if you didn’t know that his life hung in the balance?” Lord Oliver asked. “I want to make sure you’re doing this for the right reasons.”

Dick couldn’t honestly say that he was. His thoughts were on Jason. They were on Alfred and Damian. But they were also on the noble family of Drake, staunch supporters of Bruce and Dick’s claim to the throne. They were on the capital city that had been under Talia’s rule already, with her help to those who help themselves philosophy. Bruce’s hopes for his kingdom and the long, late night discussions they’d have every once in a blue moon where Dick would contribute and Bruce would treat his ideas like they were gold.

“I’m doing this to protect people,” Dick said. “It’s not about politics and I’m not going to make it about politics. I could care less about that throne. I care about the _people_. These are real lives that are hanging in the balance of me getting back to them. You’re right, though. There are an unimaginable number of people that would be affected. At the end of the day, for me this is about Damian and Alfred and _Jason_. I don’t have to be doing it for the right reason to be right to do it.”

Lord Oliver inclined his head at that. “You’re not wrong.”

Dick leaned back into the chair, feeling more relief than he expected. “So you’re helping?”

“I was always going to help, Your Highness,” Lord Oliver said. “But it’s nice to know when you’re fighting for a good cause. Eat. You’ll need your strength moving forward.”

It wasn’t uncommon to hear the howling of wolves during the night. In fact, it had been much more common when Dick lived with the troupe of performers and then the silence of the castle had used to keep Dick into the early hours of the morning. When the nearby howl of a wolf woke Dick up in the middle of the night, it was almost like waking up in the caravans and listening to the sounds of the nightlife.

The _scream_ is what reminded him that the bed he was sleeping in wasn’t a bed roll on the ground around a fire. This was a castle, a village, a fief, and wolves shouldn’t be that close.

He was out of bed, running to the window and looking down at the village where a knight was locked in a vicious battle with the same wolf Dick had heard howling. Shining, silver-white fur under the moonlight and a haze of green following the creature as it moved. The creature reared back, moonlight hitting its eyes and making them glow that same unearthly green as Jason’s had.

Talia. Somehow she’d found him and this wolf was here to finish what Jason hadn’t.

He pulled his boots on and grabbed his sword, forgoing the time it would take to pull his shirt on and racing down the staircase to join the others as they too ran from the castle and into the village.

The chill of the air finished waking Dick up, a reminder that this was real. Surreal as it felt, the screams and the snarls were no nightmare. He was awake. There was blood and despite the cuts on the wolf, there was no way that all of it was from the creature. In the shadows, Dick spotted a few of the guards bleeding out into the dirt.

Instantly, the wolf focused on his presence. The eyes were unnatural, something far more perceptive than Dick expected from a wolf. No doubt an effect of Talia’s magic.

The claws tapped against the dirt and then it lunged forward. Its teeth snapped and barely missed sinking into Dick’s arm. Dick brought up his blade and the sword swept through the air. He didn’t succeed beyond shaving the wolf of a few hairs and ended up stumbling forward with the momentum of his swing. When a guard attempted to step in, Dick put up his hand. “Wait! No!”

It was too late. The wolf pushed off the ground and landed on the guard’s chest. The man’s throat was ripped out in one brutal bite. Blood dripped down the muzzle and then the wolf was back to Dick, chasing after him as he ran back towards the castle. He twisted, running up the path backwards and towards the hedge that blocked in the courtyard. It would be quieter there with less people at risk of being attacked by the wolf.

“Down, Dick!” Dick didn’t even fully comprehend that it was Roy speaking as he obeyed. He crouched down in the center of the path. Over his head, the wolf leapt over him. It was all coiled muscle as it landed and spun to face him. While the wolf regained its balance, Dick took advantage. He stabbed forward and his sword pierced the creature’s right flank. The wolf growled as it slipped away from the attack. Dick followed with a slice downwards and then another swing that went too wide. It opened Dick up to attack and the wolf lunged forward with its teeth bared.

A whistle preceded the sight of the red and yellow feathered vanes on the shaft of the arrow sticking out of the wolf’s eye. The howl at this proximity was deafening. Dick’s ears rang like church bells. It was, however, exactly what he needed to step forward and thrust up. The wolf reared back, bringing paws down to claw into Dick. Not before the tip of his sword pierced the chest between the wolf’s ribs. Gravity took care of the rest, forcing the animal down the length of the blade until blood poured out and ran rivers over his hands.

A weak struggle, a whimper from the creature - Dick drove it in the last few inches only to rip it back out. The wolf fell down and slumped to the side.

“Are you okay?” Roy asked. He ran up with his bow still out and an arrow drawn.

“I’m fine,” Dick said. “A few bruises. I got off lucky.”

“Rabid?” Roy asked.

“Talia,” Dick corrected. “Its eyes were green. Jason’s eyes looked that way when he was trying to kill me.”

“She knows you’re here,” Roy said. “Makes you wonder what else she knows?”

“We should assume that she knows everything,” Dick said softly.

He lifted his hands up, the blood wet and growing sticky between his fingers. Around his neck, the amber pendant felt heavy with the reminder of the last time he’d had so much blood on his hands. A cold reminder of why it was time to take Talia down.

~~~

Talia screamed. Jason’s eyes had been glued to the mirror while he watched in horror as Dick fought for his life against Talia’s undead wolf. The terror he’d felt, knowing that Dick could falter at any moment and pay for that mistake with his life – he hoped to never feel that again. The sight of the bloody wolf and Dick staring down at his hands was permanently seared in his mind.

But when Talia screamed Jason’s eyes left the mirror to see the woman clutch her heart. Pain etched into her expression.

“He’s going to win,” Jason said. “You underestimated him.”

Talia’s normally ethereal beauty was warped by her anger and, beneath that, fear. Her eyes glowed and she walked over, wrapping a hand around Jason’s neck. “I still have you.”

If Dick was smart, he’d leave Jason here. He’d run and run. He’d get the help he needed to take down Talia and protect his kingdom.

“He’ll come for you,” Talia said. She ripped her nails up, cutting red lines up his cheek. She still looked furious but this knowledge seemed to calm her. “He’ll come for you and when he does, perhaps I’ll let you live long enough to watch him die.”


	3. Chapter 3

In the morning, somehow the carnage from the night before looked all that much more gruesome. The bodies had been taken away, given to the families before burial, but the blood remained. It had long soaked into the ground and turned the naturally rust colored dirt into a dark black where the pools of blood had settled.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Lady Dinah’s fitted black gown nearly matched the color of the blood soaked dirt.

Dick never took his eyes off the blood. “She sent it after me. I put people in danger where I stay.”

“Did you know she was capable of following you that way?” Lady Dinah asked. Dick shook his head. “Then it wasn’t your fault. Even if you had known, what she’s begun is the start for war here. There are casualties in war and each of these men would die in the service of it.”

“Die for the throne?” Dick asked. “That seems like a waste of life.”

Lady Dinah frowned. “You were not so self-absorbed last night.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just last night you told us how much this was about your people. The individual, not the kingdom at large. You want to rescue your love, your family – what makes these men so different?” Lady Dinah asked. “These are men who would die to protect their own families, their own lovers, their own homes. They fight behind you for as long as you represent the force at their backs, the future King who will take the throne and provide them with safety and security.”

Dick didn’t like feeling chastised but he did. In a way, it was all too much reminiscent of Alfred’s quiet disapproval saved for when Dick did something particularly rude or selfish.

“You’re right,” Dick admitted. His voice barely broke a whisper.

“Of course I am,” she said. It was softened with a smile. “Oliver was talking about sending you and Roy over to some of the nearby fiefs. See how many of the other Lords and Ladies that we could get to your side.”

“I thought Roy was leaving with Jade and Lian,” Dick said.

“He was. Last night Jade and I had a talk, woman to woman,” Dinah said. “They’ve agreed to stay for now.”

Dick wondered what had all been involved in that woman to woman chat. He knew it probably wasn’t in his best interest to actually ask. “Not all of the Lords were that fond of Bruce and I. Dent? Cobblepot?”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” she replied. “That might be enough to sway them. If you let them know what kind of powers she could be using against them then they may be more likely to aid you.”

This was war. Petitioning for help from the Lords, asking them to live up to their vows of fealty and send the soldiers that Dick needed to take back the throne. If he couldn’t do this, then Dick had no hope of uniting his kingdom one day.

“I’m worried about them, back home,” Dick said. “I know that I have a duty to the country, I know that rushing back would get me nowhere. Part of me still doesn’t want to leave him there.”

“It’s natural to worry,” she said. “We worry about our families and that is what makes them family. You’re doing the right thing. If he has survived this long, you have no reason to believe that he will not survive longer.”

Dick took a deep breath. “I should go inside. Maybe Oliver has suggestions on where to start.”

“Don’t let him tell you what to do, Your Highness,” she said.

Dick chuckled. “I won’t. I know what my goals are. I’ll do what I have to in order to complete them, whether your husband likes it or not.”

Lady Dinah nodded and then the two parted, both stepping away from the blood on the ground. She headed towards the gate where a woman Dick recognized as having collected one of the bodies was sobbing with several young children beside her. These people needed protection too. Dinah was right about that much.

Inside the castle, Dick made his way back to the Great Hall. The Lord sat with Roy standing beside him. It was the closest he’d seen the two men since he’d arrived in Starling and if he’d been asked yesterday he’d have said that they didn’t seem capable of such close proximity.

His own relationship with Bruce had always been a nightmare and a half and somehow was also full of some of the fondest memories he could remember. It shouldn’t have been so surprising that Lord Oliver and his son shared something so similar.

Dick was halfway across the floor when the panting and frantic pounding of footsteps behind him made him turn. He recognized the Wayne royal colors and angled himself away for safety. It wasn’t really necessary. The man only had eyes for Lord Oliver. “A royal decree.”

Out of the corner of his eye Lord Oliver glanced at Dick and then refocused on the messenger to nod. “Go on.”

“To the Lords and Ladies of Gotham, it is by the royal decree of Her Majesty Queen Talia that due to the unfortunate passing of His Royal Highness Crown Prince Richard, the coronation of His Royal Highness Prince Damian will take the crown. You are cordially invited to the coronation of Prince Damian where Prince Richard’s killer shall pay for his crimes against the crown.”

Without a shadow of a doubt, Dick knew who his supposed killer was. He could see the realization on Lord Oliver’s face as well. “When?”

“Tomorrow,” the messenger said.

Pain wormed through his chest. “Jason.”

“You can go,” Lord Oliver said.

The messenger bowed low and then ran off to the next fief so as to tell the kingdom of Damian’s impending coronation.

“Give me a horse,” Dick ordered the moment the messenger was out of the Great Hall.

Lord Oliver stood. “This is an attempt to get you to return, Your Highness.”

“ _Give me a horse_ ,” Dick growled.

“Dick, stop and think,” Roy said. “She knows that you care about him. I’m sure she’s trying to use that against you. If you would take just a moment you would realize that running back there to save him is running right back into her hands. You forfeit this battle, the throne, everything.”

“That was an order!” Dick bellowed. “I don’t care what running back is. I am not going to let him die, executed for a crime he didn’t commit. I have to go back. You can rally the fiefs together yourself. Convince the Lords and Ladies to fight against Talia, and then Damian will take the throne. With guidance and strong help, he’s a good kid-“

“He’s a child,” Lord Oliver said. “You had His Majesty to guide you to be King. There is a reason that you were supposed to take over the kingdom.”

“I never wanted the throne,” Dick said. “I wanted to live with my family and be happily in love with Jason. Talia took Bruce already-“

“You don’t know that,” Lord Oliver interrupted.

“I won’t let her take Jason too.” As if Oliver hadn’t even spoken. “Give me a horse.” No response. “What would you do if it was Jade or Lady Dinah?”

Roy cracked first. His shoulders sagged. There was silence after but Dick knew he’d made his point. Roy pushed Oliver’s hand off his shoulder and stepped forward. “You can have Speedy.”

“Thank you,” Dick said.

In the stable, Roy handed Dick the reins once the prince was on the horse’s back. “Be careful out there, alright? You’re going to be riding straight through dark. It’s dangerous and it could be deadly if you’re not careful.”

“I know,” Dick said. He pulled Speedy towards the path.

Roy put his hand on Speedy’s neck, patting gently. “Listen, Dick, Ollie is right about one thing. She’s aiming to use this to bring you back, and I don’t blame you for going because you’re right. I would go if it was Jade. But you _are_ aware that you’re walking right into her trap, right?”

“I love him,” Dick said. It was answer enough.

Roy hesitated and then nodded. He stepped back. “God speed.” Roy lifted his hand and waved to the guards posted.

“Raise the gate!”

Dick waited until he had enough space and then dug his heels into the horse. They bolted forward, galloping past the villagers and racing out into the woods again.

It felt like the night came too soon. The sun drooping low in the sky first and then disappearing altogether. Speedy never broke, proving to be far more enduring than the horse had any right to be. When this was over Dick hoped he got the chance to reward the creature with a lifetime of apples from the apple trees in the courtyard because he deserved them.

A sharp pain on his cheek followed the tips of the branches slicing his cheek open. Blood rolled down from the cut just under his eye. He reached a hand up to wipe it away. Speedy jumped. Dick’s loose single handed grasp on the reins slipped as they vaulted over the log. He strained forward, narrowly brushing the leather straps of the reins with the tips of his fingers and then angling off Speedy and falling back when the horse landed and the jolt propelled him into the air.

Speedy continued onward on the path despite having lost his rider. Dick hit the ground head first and uncurled the rest of his body all the way down his spine. The radiating headache, stretching all the way from the top of his head to just above his tailbone, was enough to leave him sitting there seeing stars. Or, rather, watch the sky of stars above spin around. He squeezed his eyes shut and refused to open them until the sudden urge to throw up the meal from this morning faded. The headache didn’t go anywhere and his vision still blurred but by the time he sat up his stomach wasn’t threatening to upheave all over the ground. With the dark and shadows and twisted, gnarled trees combining to distort the area as it was, the blurriness didn’t help at all.

An owl hooted to his right and Dick jumped at the sight of the two yellow eyes peering at him from the darkness. He cursed, pulling himself to his feet. “Fool. You know what’s out here.” And owls were the least of his actual worries. Wolves, maybe. There were bears out here to be certain. Normally they didn’t bother people but after the attack at Starling and Bruce’s death…

It might have been Talia, in fact Dick was sure of it but-

The hairs at the back of his neck stood on end at the chilling howl of a nearby wolf. After Bruce’s death, Dick had developed a healthy fear of the creatures. He brushed the dirt off his pants and then squinted to try to bring the world into focus. Speedy, of course, was long gone. He couldn’t even hear the sound of hoof beats, though maybe that was just because his heart was beating too loud to hear anything over.

Dick stepped forward and stumbled. Looking down at the root he’d caught his foot on, the ground seemed to rise and fall. He braced his hand against a tree trunk, pulling away suddenly when a spider crawled across his hand. He flung the creature away and then fell back.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had a concussion and he recognized the symptoms. It _would_ be the first time Dick had gotten a concussion while lost in the woods, in the dark and alone.

“Damn it!”

Dick didn’t have time to waste struggling in the woods. He didn’t have time to waste fumbling in the dark in the search of a horse that might already be well on its way to the castle without him. He couldn’t waste time because if he was late then Jason was going to die.

_Jason was going to die._

“Damn it,” Dick whispered. He sank down onto the ground.

The cold seeped through his clothes and hollowed him out. He wrapped his hand around the amber necklace. “What good is this anyways?” He ripped the amulet off his neck. Where had Mama’s magic been when Dick needed it to protect Bruce? Where was the protection she’d talked about when Jason had spent the past decade under Talia’s control? What good was a magic amulet if it let him nearly get mauled by a wolf and get lost in the woods just when Dick needed magic more than anything? “Useless!”

It sparkled as he flung it out into the woods. He heard a splash and his heart skipped. With everything happening, Dick hadn’t noticed the bubbling sound of the creek nearby. He crawled to his feet, stumbling and sprawling against the ground once or twice before he reached the bed of the creek and squinted at the inky black water.

That amulet was all he had of Mama any more.

Dick reached his hand in, gasping at the icy water and the powerful current that had no doubt dragged Mama’s amulet further down. He moved forward, struggling in the dark over the uneven rocks lining the creek. There was no sparkle, no glint of yellow, and no sign of Mama’s amulet.

The current splashed the water against a rock, spraying Dick with the freezing spray of the creek water. He stepped back. He couldn’t afford to have a repeat of the mountain, drenched with cold water and risking hypothermia. There wasn’t going to be a Roy and Jade to scoop him up and warm him this time. Dick wasn’t that lucky.

“Damn it,” Dick whispered.

A whistle caught his attention. Another and then another. Dick’s blurry vision struggled to find the source and finally settled on a small, yellow ball of feathers. The canary.

_A_ canary. It was ridiculous to believe that it was the same canary as before. Nearly as ridiculous as seeing a canary twice or this canary being out here in the middle of the night during the winter season when the bird should have long headed south for the winter.

The bird hopped down the branch and whistled again.

“I see you,” Dick muttered, feeling particularly stupid for talking to a bird.

The canary hopped again and then took off from the branch it was on to the next one down. It whistled again, hopping up the branch and then back down. Up the branch, down the branch, and a shrill little whistle to disrupt the sound of the bugs and the bubble of the creek and the whistling wind ruffling those bright yellow feathers.

Dick forced himself to his feet again. He pushed off the nearest tree trunk with his hand and followed the canary. Sure enough, as he approached the tree that the canary was perched on, the bird flew off again and landed on the next tree over.

Without a horse, clear vision, and even the remotest idea of where he was at anymore… following the bird from one tree to the next couldn’t be more of a bad idea than sitting in the center of the forest and waiting for dawn to come and with it take Jason’s life.

The bird was patient, _if_ it was actually waiting for him. It remained where it was, watching and waiting each time for Dick to catch up and then leading off again. Dick caught up after nearly half an hour of that and the bird took off again, this time circling in the air before coming to land on a rock. Dick frowned until the waves crested over a rock again. The canary shrieked and flapped away but Dick’s eyes landed on the sparkle of amber caught in the water.

Dick lunged forward, landing hard on his knees and swallowing back the bile that threatened to make a great escape. He crawled the rest of the way, hands gathering dirt and mud before he thrust his hand in the water. The chill was still just as intense but Dick’s mind focused to clarity. Untangling the chain from the plants which had caught it was another thing entirely. Dick fought fingers that seemed thick and mindless and pricked himself on something below before pulling the necklace back out.

He squeezed his fingers around the amber, closing his eyes and thanking Mama and Papa above that he’d been able to get their gift back.

He carefully hung it around his neck again and looked down at the canary sitting in the stack of dead, brown leaves. “Thank you.”

The canary whistled in reply. The dead leaves crackled as it hopped again, and then took off in a flurry of yellow feathers to perch on the tree once more.

“Am I supposed to still follow you?” Dick asked. A whistle and the canary moved to the next tree over. Dick squeezed the amber one last time and then followed after. “I suppose that means yes.”

The moon was on its drift down when Dick heard the familiar sound of a horse whinnying. He ran, ignoring the throb of his head and the way his legs stumbled like he’d forgotten how to run. Speedy lifted his head from the clump of grass he was eating from, neighing again and then lowering his head.

Dick slowly walked over, snatching the reins in a sharp motion to keep Speedy from running again. “Thank…” A glance up and the canary was gone. “You.”

Concussions were serious business, very dangerous and very debilitating. There was every chance that the canary had never real. What _was_ real was Speedy, the amber amulet around his neck, and the chance to get back on the path to the castle.

Dick climbed back on and steeled himself for a rough journey. “Let’s go!”

Speedy took a few slow steps forward and then bolted through the trees again.

~~~

Jason’s heart couldn’t take much more of watching Dick. Especially knowing that the fool was coming back to save him.

“Shouldn’t be too much longer, Jason,” Talia said. She waved her hand over the mirror and Dick’s form riding breakneck speed through the forest outside of the capital disappeared from the mirror.

“Talia, please,” Jason begged. “Leave him alone.”

“I’ll have none of this, Jason,” Talia said. “The way to get Damian on the throne is through your prince.”

“You resented me for turning my back on you, Talia. You said I betrayed you. Let me be loyal to you again,” Jason said. He got to his knees, chains dragging across the stone with each movement. “Send him away and you will have my undying loyalty.” Whether he enjoyed the blood on his hands or not.

Talia pushed her hand through his hair, nails and fingers catching on the slight wave of it and pulling just shy of painful. She tilted his head back. Green eyes met Jason’s and Talia said, “You should never have betrayed me in the first place.”

“Send him away. The throne will still be open for Damian to rule,” Jason said. He cared very little about the kingdom or her people. Part of Jason still resented the capital people for letting his mother be treated the way she had been by his father, resented them for letting him die of starvation on the streets. So fuck the people of the city, but Dick had _cared_. Dick deserved better.

Talia leaned down, lips ghosting over Jason’s and smelling of whatever flower was mixed in with the dark red lipstick she wore. “I am going to watch him bleed.”

His arms were pulled tight behind him but he had a few inches to spare where he could jump forward, teeth sinking into her lip until he tasted blood. She pushed him back, hand going up to her bottom lip and coming away wet with blood. It made her look like the blood sucking demons in the old stories. Her hand came down hard across his face and then she was digging her nails into his neck, piercing and drawing blood and then digging _deeper_.

“You little fool,” Talia hissed. “After you’re dead I might just rip that heart from your chest and raise you again. Just so I can have the _pleasure_ of killing you myself.”

Jason spit the copper taste of blood back in her face. It splattered on her cheek. She smacked him again just as hard as the first time. He worked his jaw up until her hand left the holes she was digging into his neck and wrapped around the chain leading up to his collar. With a hard tug, she had Jason face first on the floor and the point of her heel pressing down into his back.

“Mother?” Damian’s voice was soft.

Jason pressed his cheek against the floor so he could see the boy. Talia pulled her heel back and Jason sucked in the deep breath of air he’d been denied. “Yes, Damian?”

“There are visitors here for you,” Damian said. “I assumed you’d have rather me not sent a servant.” Not up here. A flash of pain crossed Damian’s eyes and he muttered, “The creature that killed Grayson?”

“I-“ Jason cut off when the toe of Talia’s shoe connected with his jaw. He didn’t feel it break but even moving it sent sparks of pain through his skull.

Talia stepped back. “The one and the same.”

Clearly Damian was not aware that Dick was still alive, alive and returning. Jason wanted so badly to tell him. Opening his mouth released only a groan of pain and then he was closing it once more. He pressed his forehead against the stone, arching the rest of his body up.

“It’s unfortunate that we cannot take more time in his death,” Damian said.

“What’s important is that he will be avenged, Damian. His

death with earn your late brother justice and you shall honor the throne he would have taken,” Talia said.

Damian spared Jason one last look and the door closed behind both royals. Jason pushed himself back up to a kneeling position, panting briefly before trying once again to weaken the strength of the chains.

~~~

The capital was rejoicing. The Wayne colors still flew but in honor of Damian’s joined heritage, Talia’s assortment of greens and the pure white of her colors were flying beside them. It was all sorts of twisted, especially knowing what Talia had been capable of.

“Move!” Dick ordered.

The villagers ran out of his way. One even leapt over a cart when there was simply absolutely nowhere else to run. Several looked at him, most shouting and telling him to watch where he was going. None of them seemed to recognize the blurring face and unfamiliar horse as the same prince who had supposedly died only a few days earlier.

Maybe that was for the best. Explaining would only slow Dick down and Dick needed to get to Jason.

The capital was big, remarkably so. It stretched on for miles, fields of farmers and several businesses. Merchants, houses, and long, wide streets for the wagons to be pulled along by the horses in front of them. At this time of day, and with the celebration of a coronation growing ever closer, the streets were filled with people. People in their finery, those rich enough, and the rest in their Sunday best.

“Stop!” Dick recognized the bellow of a guard. He also ignored it, in favor of jumping Roy’s horse over a cart of wheat and barley and landing on the other side in a cloud of red dust. Further and further, faster and faster, and the straining muscles of the horse underneath him clenching and unclenching all to the frantic symphony of hoof beats and heart beats beating as one.

The edge of the capital came in sight, the first sign being the tips of the towers just over the nearest hill. Dick dug his heels in harder. He was already pushing the limits of the animal’s speed but nothing seemed fast enough. Nothing would be fast enough when Jason’s life depended on Dick making it on time.

Ahead, carriages were lined up - the various dignitaries, nobles, and well-to-do families coming to see the coronation of the new king. It went against centuries of tradition to crown a noble so young, but it was not the first time. It wasn’t even the first time in the past fifty years. After King Thomas and Queen Martha had been killed by bandits, the next available in line to the throne was Bruce’s uncle, Jacob. An Earl and an active general in the war, and his daughter, the Countess Katherine, they were the only remaining family Bruce had left – no matter how strained ties might have been between them at the time of Thomas and Martha’s death. When the Earl declined the throne, stating that his place was on the battlefield, it was decided to ignore the centuries of tradition and put Bruce on the throne early.

That decision caused an upset in the various long line of nobles with greedy eyes on the throne, an upset that would herald the beginning of the small upstarts that continued to this day and the threat of civil war that seemed to forever hang above the kingdom like a dark thundercloud on the horizon.

Alfred claimed that he’d had nothing to do with the decision made during Bruce’s youth, but Bruce steadfastly refused to deny it. Alfred had been integral in the denial of tradition and Dick would have loved to have the details. Of course, neither of the men had ever cared to supply him with.

He weaved past a carriage, racing to the side of the building past surprised guards who seemed to war between dealing with the visiting nobles and the fast riding stranger curving around to the back of the castle. Inevitably, some of them followed him and Dick took the horse over by the stable before jumping off and grabbing on to the edge of the wooden roof to pull himself up.

Bruce had mocked his tricks learned during his childhood. If only the man could see him now.

The horse kept going, running around behind the stable and then out to the other side. Dick’s fingers dug into the wood as he pulled himself up onto the roof and then climbed up towards the top and laid down flat.

The guards came up around the stable, several moving to the back where it was clear that Dick had gotten off the horse. “He’s not back here!”

“Head into the forest!”

Dick lifted his head enough to watch the tail end of three or four horses disappear into the woods. He rolled over, pushing his chest up to look at the other guards, riding back towards the front of the castle. Dick let go of his grip on the point of the roof, sliding down to the end and then dropping into a crouch.

He stood, meeting the eyes of the stable hand. The boy had gone out to grab Speedy and bring him in. Dick should have expected that and the wide eyes of surprise and maybe horror at seeing Dick there. “Are you a ghost?”

Dick pressed his finger over his lips. The stable hand nodded, rushing to pull the horse in and put him away in one of the spare stalls. Smart to not question any further. Dick watched him walk out of sight and then made a mad dash across the open space to the single wooden door where Dick and Jason had often snuck out to run to the lake during the night.

A single, solid pull had the door swinging wide open and bared the dusty, dank stairway curving up towards the servants quarters and down to the storage rooms below. Dick pulled it shut behind him, feeling along the wall as he ran up into the shared chambers of the servants.

“Your Highness!”

“An imposter!”

The maid shrieked and Dick deftly brought up his arms just in time for Dick to block the broom she nearly knocked into his face. The scratch of the bristles brushed against his hand as he grabbed it and ripped it out of her hands. “Stop! I am not an imposter. Where is Her Majesty keeping Jason?” Silence. “Jason, the man about to be executed. Where is she keeping him?”

“The tower.” A portly woman, Helen. She had used to let Dick play with her children when they were younger. “Her Majesty took him up to the tower.”

Of course. Dick nodded. “Thank you.” He pushed past them and continued his race through the castle. The Great Hall would be full of guards. Dick avoided it, taking the hallways around it that took him through the dining room and the courtyard instead. Dick took the tower stairs two at a time, stumbling once or twice. He pulled to a sudden stop at the solid, black door at the top of the stairs.

Dick pulled on the handle, cursing when he found the door locked. Talia no doubt had the key on her person and Dick couldn’t imagine the risk of trying to take it. By the time he succeeded it would be pointless to try and sneak up here. Jason’s execution drew ever nearer. On either side of the door were ancient suits of armor. The one on the left carried a sword, the one on the right an axe. Dick wrapped his fingers around the shaft and pulled. The whole suit fell over, metal bouncing off the stone and the helmet rolling down the stairs with a clatter of noise sure to draw attention.

Dick adjusted his grip on the axe heaving it up and then bringing it down against the wood. It splintered and Dick had to tug twice just to get the axe back out. He repeated the process. Each time the bang echoed off the stone walls and then faded down the tower stairs. The hole made was small but Dick threw the axe on the floor anyways and pushed his hand in. Slivers of the splintered wood scratched his hand and wrist as he blindly groped the door and then unlocked it. He pushed it open and found Jason standing.

Dick ran over, throwing his arms around Jason’s neck and dragging him close. Lips touched, a chaste press, and then Jason followed Dick back and took Dick’s mouth again. Tongues slipped against each other, teeth dragging over lips. Dick pulled back. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Jason said.

“Where are the keys?”

Jason pressed his mouth to Dick’s again. Slower, softer. He buried his face in Dick’s neck and inhaled. “There are no keys.”

Dick’s fingers followed the collar and the smooth metal, no keyholes. The chains leading back to where they fused with the wall. “I’ll get the axe.”

“Dickie-“

Dick picked it up again, dragging the heavy weapon across the floor and leaving sparks in his wake. He lifted it again.

“Dick, stop,” Jason ordered. He pulled his arms up to protect his face when Dick brought the axe down. Sparks flew and the chains glowed a bright green. When Dick looked again, no damage had been done.

“No,” Dick said.

“You need to go, Dickie,” Jason said. “She’ll be coming. She’ll know you’re in here and she’ll come. This is what she wanted. Go now.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Dick said.

“Go,” Jason said. His heads pushed against Dick’s chest.

Dick turned to the wall of potions. “There has to be something in here that will free you.”

“Dick, you’re not listening to me,” Jason said. “If you don’t leave she is going to kill you.”

“I am not losing another person, Jason. I won’t be here to survive someone else’s death,” Dick said.

“No, you won’t,” Talia said.

“Your Majesty-“

Talia lifted her hand up, the door slamming shut behind her and mending with her own guards trapped on the other side. If not for the axe lying on the floor and Dick’s own bloody wrist from the splintered wood, it was as if no damage had ever been done. “Richard.”

Dick drew his sword. “Let Jason go.”

Talia’s arm lifted, fingers curling like claws, and Jason cried out. He dropped to his knees. His hand went to his chest where Dick could just make out the heart shaped green glow through his skin beating frantically. “Drop your weapon, Richard. It’s time to end this.”

“Jason!” Dick shouted. A step forward had Talia’s hand curling more, Jason screaming in whatever pain she was inflicting. He stepped back again.

“Drop your weapon!” Talia ordered.

Dick’s grip tightened. “And you release him?”

After a beat, Talia reached up and crossed her finger over her chest. Diagonal left to right, diagonal right to left, leaving a bright green X on her skin that hissed and then settled on her skin. It bubbled and snapped and then cooled all at once to leave an angry, pink scar in its place. “He’ll have every freedom to leave if he wishes.”

“Dick…” Jason growled, hand still over his chest. He winced at another stab of Talia’s power. “Dick, please don’t.”

The sword clattered against the ground between them. Talia closed her fist, and Jason’s eyes rolled back before he sank to the floor. The steady rise and fall of his chest kept Dick calm. As calm as he could be with Talia walking closer. “Damian will honor his father’s throne in a way you never could have.”

“I hope so,” Dick said.

Talia’s fingers pressed against his chest and pushed. The blast of light, white and warm, sent Talia flying across the room and burned with the warmth of a fire against his chest.

The pleasant heat of the sun in the shape of a small amber stone over his heart.

Talia screamed and Dick opened his eyes to see her clutching her hand, bright red and blistered. Her eyes sparked with rage and she threw a wave of magic against him, throwing him back into the wall. He hit the shelves and the dozens of boxes fell around him. Hearts rolled out and left trails of blood in their wake. “What magic is this?”

Dick pulled himself to his feet. “You can’t kill me, Talia.”

Talia’s blistered hand hung limply at her side. She spun, eyes searching the room, and coming to a stop on the apple rotting on her table. It lifted off the wood and into her hand, the process of decay fading until the apple was whole and bright red once more. “Maybe not.” She dropped it in the cauldron and Dick had to cover his eyes at the bright flash of light that followed. He rubbed his eyes, spots dancing from the second of exposure he’d gotten, and listened to her foreign tongue chant over the brew.

He regained his sight just in time to see the apple flying across the room towards him and caught it with both hands against his chest.

“Take a bite,” Talia ordered.

Dick looked the apple over. Gone was the dark red of the peel, familiar to this area in Gotham. Gone were the blemishes, the worm holes, and the bruises from falling from the tree branches. It was a toxic red, perfect in shape and color. “And if I don’t?”

“Jason will die. I have more than enough power to keep you here even if I can’t kill you. Maybe not forever, with whatever blessing you have, but long enough to let you hear the cheers of the kingdom as he dies for your murder,” Talia said. “You’ll fight, maybe even win. Either way, you’ll never have Jason back.”

“And if I do?” Dick asked.

“You sleep,” Talia said. Dick’s head came up at that. “Forever. Eternally. Out of my way and out of Damian’s way to the throne. Jason lives with the same offer of his freedom. Everyone wins.” A pause. “Except for you. He gets his life. Gotham gets a king. I get you out of the way.”

Dick met her gaze, patient and waiting but with rage in her eyes. He looked over to Jason, vulnerable but breathing, and then to the oath carved directly into Talia’s skin. He rolled the fruit in his fingers and then lifted it to his mouth. His teeth sank into the skin and down into the flesh of it. He tasted the flood of sickly sweetness, cloying on his tongue. His vision darkened, and he was asleep before he ever hit the floor.

~~~

Jason gasped as he came awake. His muscles tensed, his breath filled his lungs to capacity, and awareness settled in with all the subtlety of an avalanche. He could remember the pain and Talia screaming. Dick throwing down his sword…

Jason sat up, pushing the blankets off. They settled in a pool over his feet. He stepped down on the side of the bed closest to the door and stood. He felt shaky and weak and exhausted, as if he’d had mere minutes of sleep instead of the time he’d clearly spent in this bed. The sun was hanging low in the sky but Jason was sure he’d been asleep longer than just a few hours.

He pulled the door open, nearly tripping over the maid outside. “Sorry.” She scurried away without a response. Jason dragged a hand down his face and walked, barefoot, down the corridor. The pathways were familiar enough to the Great Hall to stumble down them, still half groggy from whatever Talia had attacked him with.

Dick. Dick had to have made it. He had to have lived or Talia would have killed him. Even with that oath, she wouldn’t have tucked him into bed. Dick had pulled some kind of miracle off, he had to have. The staircase came to view and Jason had to set one hand on the bannister to catch his balance.

There was no massive crowd of people waiting for the coronation. Jason had watched the line of carriages through the window but there were none of those people here now.

Jason let go of the bannister and looked up at the Great Hall, the empty room and the sole, small form on the throne.

Damian. The boy wearing the crown, seated beneath the portrait of his grandparents looking down on him with the empty, frozen smiles of the immortalized dead.

“Mother,” Damian called. He stood and caught the glint of light through the window against the golden crown upon his head. “He’s awake.”

From one of the rooms off the side, Talia stepped out. She no longer wore the crown but losing it did nothing to detract from her elegance. On her right hand was a glove, white like her dress and stretching from the tips of her finger to her elbow. “Jason.”

“What did you do to him?” Jason growled.

“I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re asking,” Talia said.

The answer was more of a surprise than Jason had been prepared for. Despite his hope and silent assurances to himself, part of him had braced for the truth that in his vulnerability, Jason had failed to protect the one person who mattered most to him. This revelation of Dick’s apparent living status was elating.

“Where is he?” Jason asked.

“Follow me,” Talia commanded.

Damian took his place back on the throne and Talia led Jason to the staircase. She glanced back at him once but cast no further glances behind her, clearly expecting Jason to follow. Dick’s room was closed, which wasn’t unusual, but it was also locked and Talia had the key. She fitted it in the door and opened it, holding it open with the hand not wearing the glove.

Dick was sleeping. His stillness was so absolute that Jason considered the nightmare that Dick was actually dead until he caught the parted lips and the slight rise and fall of his chest. “Dickie?”

“He can’t hear you,” Talia said.

Jason stepped closer. The motionlessness was unsettling and yet he still managed to look breathtaking. Jason was so used to seeing him strong and protective that this image of him, asleep and vulnerable, made him reach out and touch one of the hands folded over his chest. He was still warm to the touch. Jason’s hand splayed out over Dick’s. “What happened?”

“After you fainted, I decided that it wasn’t in my best interest to kill him,” Talia said. “I know better than most that death can be just as temporary as sleeping. He made an arrangement for you to be allowed your freedom, should you want it, and in return he would cooperate to sleep. It’s endless, Jason. Don’t let it fool you. He will never wake again.”

It was almost crueler than killing him. At least in death, there would have been peace. Jason let his hands wander upwards, brushing a finger over Dick’s cheek. “There had to be ways to keep someone from bringing him back.”

“There are,” Talia said. “That’s not the only reason I kept him.”

Jason let his hand fall to his side. He twisted to look back at the woman. “Why?”

“He bargained for your freedom and I have no choice but to comply,” Talia said. The X on her chest had faded. It was now stark white against her dark skin. “But I am loathsome to lose my hunter.”

Jason sneered. “You were ready to kill me not too long ago.”

“To protect my son’s right to the throne,” Talia said. “Richard is no longer a problem.”

“You wanted revenge for my betrayal,” Jason countered.

“And I shall have it, in spades. Should you wish to leave, I won’t stop you. Go. But he will remain here, with not even a visit from the servants,” Talia said. “Stay, return to your duties, and you may accompany him in his slumber for as long as you wish between jobs.”

Jason curled his hand around Dick’s. There was no returning grip and Jason mourned the loss of the vibrant life inside of his prince. Jason clenched his jaw. He was not proud of the blood on his hands, but Dick was all he had left. If death could save Dick from a lifetime of loneliness, then Jason would gladly pick up his blades again. Talia stepped back, holding the door open in a silent order. Jason lifted Dick’s hand, kissing the back of it before setting it down. “I’ll do it.”

“I thought you would.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Welcome to Starling,” Lord Oliver said.

Jason forced his way past the guards standing in the way, daring them with his eyes to get in his way again. Jason had taken to his duties again like a fish to water. He swam the depths of this nightmare with strength and familiarity and that was clearly picked up on by the guards who stepped back. He approached the Lord. “His Majesty sent me to deliver this to you.”

“You’re not the usual messenger,” Lord Oliver said, taking the note from the man and leaving it unopened in his lap.

“This isn’t a decree,” Jason said.

Lord Oliver snapped the seal, finally, unfolding it to read silently. The Lady of the castle never took her eyes off of Jason. “Oliver?”

“His Majesty has decided to raise the tithe due in,” Lord Oliver said. He folded it up.

“His Majesty King Bruce agreed upon a decade and a half lowered, an allowance to give us the opportunity to rebuild and prosper again,” she said.

Lord Oliver patted her hand. “It’s a raise on the prior tithe, Dinah. It’s almost double what we’re sending in now.”

“I’ll inform His Majesty of your agreement,” Jason said.

“There are still many trying to rebuild,” Lady Dinah said.

“Dinah,” Oliver warned. “It’s not negotiable. That was very clear.” He inclined his head. “Tell His Majesty, and _Her_ Majesty, that we will begin sending the new tithe in with the next shipment.”

“Thank you,” Jason said, turning to leave so he could go home and see Dick again. He felt bad, especially with the look on Lady Dinah’s face. Clearly their fief was rebuilding and probably used any spare money to aid in that effort. It was an expression he’d seen on most of the Lords’ faces as he’d delivered Talia’s note. And it _was_ Talia’s note. She was the one pulling the strings here, Damian little more than a puppet with a shiny crown. Damian deserved better, _Gotham_ deserved better, but Jason was in no position to change a thing.

“Wait,” Lord Oliver said. Jason stopped but didn’t turn back. “What’s your name?”

“Jason,” he replied.

“You’re Prince Richard’s lover,” Lord Oliver said. “The one he left here so desperate to rescue.”

Jason’s shoulders tightened and he turned around stiffly. “That would be me.”

“She killed him, didn’t she?” Lord Oliver said. He shook his head. “I warned him that going back was a bad idea.”

“She didn’t kill him.” The hope in Lord Oliver’s eyes reminded him too much of himself, when Talia told him that she had left Dick alive. “She did worse.”

He didn’t wait for a response before turning and leaving.

Jason patted Zitka on the neck when they finally approached the stable. It was one of the longer trips they’d taken and Jason went boneless with relief at finally being home. Sleeping on the ground with one eye open and waiting for an attack from one of the numerous angry Lords or Ladies looking to foolishly attempt getting back at Talia through Jason wasn’t much fun.

He handed the horse back off the stable hand before grabbing the kid’s arm and pulling him to a stop. “Wait. Just…” Jason jogged back out and stopped under the nearest apple tree. He pulled one down and then ran back, holding it out to Dick’s prized horse. “Here, girl.”

The apple was gobbled up out of his hand and Jason ran his hand up and down her nose. “I’ll give him your love again, Zitka. Thanks for the ride these past couple weeks. Enjoy the rest.”

He nodded, letting the stable hand take her for good this time and then walking back up to the castle. The guards barely took note of him, his leaving and returning too much of a normal occurrence for them much to care or pay attention. He walked in and followed through to the Great Hall, taking a knee in front of His Majesty King Damian. “Your messages have been delivered.”

“How were they taken?” Damian asked.

Jason arched an eyebrow. “Honestly?”

“I wouldn’t ask for anything else. I can make up my own lies,” Damian said.

Couldn’t argue that. “Most were unhappy, to say the least. I got the impression that Starling has been using the extra money to rebuild and seemed concerned about their capabilities to do so now that they were going to have to pay more.”

Damian’s lips curved down and he looked up at his mother. Talia set her hand on Damian’s shoulder. “This is no less than what they should be paying, dear. If the Queen line cannot handle their fief, we will find someone else to take it and handle it properly.”

Damian nodded slowly. Blue eyes settled on Jason again. “Thank you, Todd. You may take your leave.”

“Jason,” Talia said, catching him just as he stood. “A moment of your time.”

It wasn’t a question and it wasn’t unexpected. Jason nodded and stepped forward, leading the way. Talia’s fingers curled around his upper arm. His nails dug into the black leather without any real sense of guidance. It wasn’t necessary. Jason knew the way.

It was actually nearly an hour before Jason got upstairs to Dick’s room. He pulled the key out from under his shirt and opened the door. The room was quiet and peaceful. He knew the only other person who really ever came up here was Alfred. It was the only explanation for the open windows on the warm, pleasant days and the closed ones on the days when rain beat hard against the glass panes. Jason stepped around the bed to the vase on the dresser, replacing the drying roses from Alfred’s garden with the wildflowers he’d picked outside of the capital walls this morning. Blue and reds that looked good together.

Jason arranged them to look decent and then stepped around the room with a quick glance to rid the room of stray cobwebs and chase out the dust through the open window. It was only when that was all done that Jason took a seat on the edge of Dick’s bed.

Dick hadn’t moved, not that Jason had expected him too. He was still sleeping peacefully with his hands folded over his chest. He looked calm and serene and Jason prayed every second of everyday that he was experiencing the same calm and serenity that he portrayed. If Jason never got another wish, he wanted Dick to be happy in whatever dream Talia had trapped him in.

“I got as far as the coast this time, Dickie,” Jason said. “I don’t get out there much, haven’t been since we were kids. Can’t tell Talia and the brat but I took a day there. I spent it just sleeping on the beach and listening to the tide come in. Think you’d like that.” He covered Dick’s hand with his own. “The water was as blue as your eyes.”

Jason had fallen asleep on the sand and dreamed that Dick was there with him. It had been painfully cruel to wake and find the stretch of sand empty beside him.

“Guess we can finish the story,” Jason said. “I should be home for a little while this time.” He picked up the book from the end table, finding the bookmark and opening the book again. The spine cracked as he smoothed out the pages. Jason shifted to get comfortable. “Look ye, señor,’ said Sancho, ‘there’s no enchantment here, nor anything of the sort, for between the bars and chinks of the cage I have seen the paw of a real lion, and judging by that I reckon the lion such a paw could belong to must be bigger than a mountain.’”

Jason read until his voice grew rough and he had no choice but to set the book down. “More tomorrow, Dickie. I promise.”

A whistle came from the window. Jason’s eyes softened at the familiar yellow bird. The creature must have had a nest somewhere nearby because on warm, bright days like today it was likely to interrupt the middle of Jason’s reading with a chirp from the window. There to sing a short song as Dick slept, unaware of his tiny feathered visitor. “He’s still not awake, little guy.”

That earned Jason another chirp in response.

“Did you visit him while I was gone?” Jason asked. _Chirp chirp._ “It’s good he has someone to keep him company.”

The little yellow wings flapped as the bird hopped from one side of the window to the other.

Not for the first time, Jason cast a glance at Dick’s parted lips and considered leaving him with a goodbye kiss. The last kiss they’d shared had been full of passion and love, Dick throwing himself at Jason…

The idea of replacing that with Dick’s unresponsive slumber made Jason’s heart ache. Instead he kissed the back of Dick’s hand again before placing it back on his chest.

“I love you, Dickie,” Jason said. Behind him, the bird chirped again, and Jason muffled the cheerful noise by closing and locking the door behind him.

The kitchen was filled with the familiar aromas of Alfred’s cooking, never failing to fill up the castle and make Jason’s stomach clench in hunger no matter how recently he’d eaten. “Got enough for me, Alfie?”

Alfred set the ladle to the side. He embraced Jason with a warm smile and squeezed tightly. He pulled back, gripping Jason’s shoulders tightly. Though age had clearly not passed Alfred by, he still had the grip of a man much younger. “I’m sure I can stretch it for one extra plate.”

“How are you?” Jason asked.

“At work which is the best place to be. As the saying goes; idle hands are the devil’s tools,” Alfred said. “I kept busy.”

Kept busy to keep sane. Jason might have understood that if he didn’t feel every day like his sanity was slipping through his fingers. He took a seat. “Good for you, Alfred.”

“And you, sir?” Alfred asked, returning to the pot with his ladle and stirring the contents. “How are you?”

Exhausted. “I saw the ocean.”

There was no way the man missed Jason not answering his question. He was simply kind enough to let it slide. “Is that so? How remarkable. It’s been a great many years since I’ve been remotely near the coast. It’s quite a trip on horseback and I’m afraid I wouldn’t be much of a rider at my age.”

“I have no doubt that you could do anything if you put your mind to it,” Jason said.

Alfred scoffed. “Flattery will get you everywhere. And, well, perhaps you’re right and I just don’t much like the ocean. Put it out of your mind. Where else did you travel to?”

“Starling,” Jason said. “That’s where Dick was before…” He trailed off. Alfred’s stirring slowed. “They knew who I was. I guess Dickie did a bit of talking about me before he left them that day.”

“Doesn’t surprise me in the least,” Alfred said. “Master Richard always spoke very fondly of the people he cared about. You were no different.”

Spoke. Were. Jason talked about him that way too but sometimes the past tense made Jason so angry. Dick wasn’t dead. That might have been the story that Talia told the kingdom but it was a lie. Dick was living and breathing, looking every second like he’d wake with a ridiculous flutter of his eyes and smile at Jason with that charming, bright smile of his.

“He asked me if she’d killed him and I said no,” Jason said. He didn’t need Alfred’s sigh to know just how badly he had fucked up with that. If Talia found out, she might refuse to let Jason see Dick. She wanted the kingdom to believe that Dick was dead. “I told him that she’d done worse.”

“He’s alive, sir. There’s always a chance. Maybe with time…” Alfred trailed off.

Time. Patience. Waiting. Things that Jason was never any good at and more so now when each day was another that Dick missed out on the chance of _living_.

“She made it very clear that nothing was ever going to change,” Jason said. He curled his hand into a fist on the table. “He never should have made that deal. He should have fought her or run.”

“It wasn’t in his nature,” Alfred said. “Not with your life on the line.”

“Dick was smarter than that. Talia is going to send Gotham back years of progress,” Jason said. “He had a duty to the kingdom.”

“Do you really care about that?” Alfred asked.

Jason looked away. “How is this better, Alfred? How could he not see how selfish he was being?” How dare Dick leave them to talk about him like he was dead? How could he leave them to be tortured with every breath he took and the hope that one day those breaths would grow into something more?

“Master Richard had trouble looking beyond his own heart sometimes,” Alfred said. “I truly believe he thought he was doing the best thing.”

“Well, he wasn’t,” Jason said.

Alfred squeezed his shoulder.

Jason tapped his fingers against the table. “Are we going to do anything for his birthday?”

“Of course, sir,” Alfred said. “I haven’t failed to celebrate it since Master Bruce brought him home and I will not start breaking the tradition now.”

~~~

Jason could walk to Dick’s room without thinking. He made the trip so often that he could do it half asleep, which is exactly what he did that day. There Jason paused; pulling the key off his neck before realizing that the door was already cracked open. He set his hand on the doorknob and leaned closer. The youthful tones of the child king could be heard from Jason’s position just outside the door.

“…uring his visit to Starling,” Damian said. “They are rebuilding still. I remember your stories about the clean up after. It’s been years, Grayson. I would have assumed they were finished, but Todd says that they feared their capabilities. Mother says that they are making excuses, withholding the rightful tithe so as to build up the resources to wage a civil war against the throne. That is not how you spoke of them, Grayson.”

Wood creaked.  There was a chair in the room, not that Jason used it often since he preferred sitting on the bed beside Dick. He could imagine Damian using it, though. Dragging it across the floor and next to the bed to have a conversation with a man who didn’t respond.

“Last time I visited-“ Jason hadn’t realized Damian made a habit of visiting Dick. “-I told you about the Drakes, but I recently met with their heir. He is an insipid fool, but just like you said - he is intelligent. I attempted to warn him to keep his head down but I am not sure what made its way through the grief.” He cleared his throat. “I did not order that, Grayson. I would not…”

Indeed, Damian had not ordered that. Jason had committed that murder at Talia’s order and Talia’s order alone. Their heir was fortunate to not have been in the house at the time.

“Todd will be here soon,” Damian said, after the silence had stretched on forever. “I will visit again tomorrow morning.”

Jason bolted away from the door when the wooden legs of the chair dragged across the floor. He stopped at the top of the stairs and waited for the door to swing open and then for Damian to close it and lock it behind him. Their eyes met when Damian turned. The ingrained training to show his respect for nobility by lowering his eyes was hard to resist but Jason managed. He searched Damian’s face instead. “Your Majesty.”

“Todd,” Damian said. The hand with the key slid into the pants pocket on Damian’s right. The boy walked past without another word.

There wasn’t a single thing out of place in Dick’s room. The chair was back in its appropriate position and Jason sat down beside Dick in his usual place. “I should have guessed that he’d been visiting.” Foolishly he’d thought that the boy was avoiding the room, listening to his mother more than he clearly was. “You did well with him after Bruce died, Dickie.”

Maybe well enough for Jason to have an ally here after all.

Jason waited until the evening of Dick’s birthday, after the cake has been eaten between Jason and Alfred and various members of the staff who came through the kitchen. There was a slice left and Jason took it without a word. It was still strange to see Damian in the library alone. So often, Jason had come and found Dick there leaning over Damian’s shoulder and correcting history or geography or arithmetic. Dick’s voice strangely loud in this quiet place, and Damian’s normally snide tone hushed and softened. Now there was only the scratch of quill against the paper and the distant ticking of the clock standing on the wall. “Your Majesty?”

The scratching abruptly stopped. “Yes?”

Jason took a risk and used the greeting as an invitation to enter. He set the cake down beside Damian’s arm, barely catching the sight of what Damian was working on before the boy covered it with his arm. The lines were smooth and flowing, not the scratch of math or essay. Jason abandoned all of his proper etiquette, pushing away the arm of his _king_ to grab the hidden paper.

“Todd! Give that back!” Damian exclaimed.

The talent was obvious, as was the distractibility of children. The math problems were scratched out, replaced with an ink drawing of a canary, set on the ledge of a window that looked a lot like the one in Dick’s room. In the right corner, a startlingly flattering image of Dick sleeping. Damian had done a skilled job of capturing Dick’s serenity in the photo. “These are good.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Damian said. He snatched the drawings out of Jason’s hands. “Leave.”

“No,” Jason said.

Damian’s shoulders pulled back. “I am _King_. I am ordering you to leave.”

“No,” Jason said. He pushed the cake in front of Damian’s face. “Do you know what today is?”

Damian’s hand tightened around the quill. He murmured his response, “Grayson’s birthday.”

“Dick’s birthday, Damian. Twenty five. We should have been celebrating his coronation today,” Jason said. “Instead he’s asleep upstairs. Forever.”

“That’s not my fault,” Damian said. “Mother put him into that slumber, not I.”

“She did it for you,” Jason said. It felt cruel to do this to a child, made his stomach roll to watch the pain on Damian’s face. He pushed anyways, knowing that if anyone had a hope of standing up to Talia it was the same person she claimed she had done everything for.

“That’s not my fault!” Damian shouted. He didn’t cry. Jason couldn’t remember a time the boy _had_ cried since he was four or five. His did ball up his tiny pudgy fists and press them against his temples. “It’s not my fault.”

Jason hesitated to set his hand on Damian’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault, kid, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t help fix it.”

Damian’s hands smoothed out, fingers sliding into his hair and making it stick up on both sides to resemble the tuffs of an owl. “How?”

“Her Majesty is watching me too closely,” Jason said. “But you might could sneak a letter to the Starling nobles.”

“So you can have my mother killed?” Damian accused.

“I know you don’t agree with all of her decisions,” Jason pointed out. “I overheard you with Dick-“

“That was a _private_ conversation,” Damian snapped.

“-and telling him that you had your doubts,” Jason finished.

“You are asking me to aid you in the murder of my mother,” Damian hissed. He gathered up his things, the homework and texts he was to study from, the quills and plain parchment, and the drawing that he stacked on top before lifting all at once. It was a tower that stretched from his navel to just under his chin. “Grayson is alive. It is a better state than Mother could have left him in. I cannot kill the last blood I have left. Approach me with this again and I will tell Mother of your plans to betray her.”

Jason watched Damian walk away, quick enough for the boy not to notice when one of the papers slipped out. Jason knelt down, picking it up and looking over the drawings on this one. This was different than the last. Damian probably carried them around to keep his mother from finding them.

The guilt Damian felt was obvious considering the major subject was still Dick. Awake, smiling. Riding on the back of a perfectly drawn horse. One of him on the sofa, one of him reading. Jason was surprised to see himself on there, sitting on a bed. He only recognized it from the familiar way he holstered his weapons as the picture was a close up of the way Jason sometimes took Dick’s hand to hold during his visits.

Jason brushed his finger over the drawing. Jason would give him some time and then maybe try again. The worst case was that Damian did as he’d threatened. If Talia found out then she’d have him killed. This wasn’t a long term solution anyways, however. Jason couldn’t watch the years go by and know that Dick wasn’t going to experience any of them just so that Talia could make sure he stayed out of her way.

If Jason died, so be it. In death there would be peace.

~~~

“You’ll need to be present downstairs tomorrow,” Talia said. “There won’t be time for you to visit Richard.”

Jason pulled his boots on, lacing them up and then pulling his shirt on again. He tucked it into his pants before buttoning them. He replaced the holsters around his thighs once at a time and then slid the knives in place. “The whole day?”

“If it wasn’t the whole day, I wouldn’t have told you that you’d need to skip your visit,” Talia said.

Jason caught her unimpressed look in the mirror as she put a comb through her hair. “Apologies, Your Majesty.”

Talia narrowed her gaze and then broke eye contact. “Lord Oliver and Lady Dinah are coming. They missed Damian’s coronation and are here to bring their gifts.”

“Sort of belated,” Jason mumbled.

Talia set the comb down and picked up the single glove, covering the pink, scarred skin of her hand. She wouldn’t tell him where she’d received it, but he knew it must have taken place after Jason had passed out that day. Another mystery to add to the secret shrouded events that took place in that tower. “I’m sure they’ve come to attempt to negotiate for a lower tithe than was ordered. They’re simply using this farce to gain entry into the castle. If it puts them in front of Damian for the chance to plead, I’m sure the Queen line will do anything.”

Jason hadn’t thought the Lord and Lady were all that bad. Dismayed by the news, but Lord Oliver had seemed to think that they were stuck in it. He hadn’t seemed like he was thinking about trying to negotiate. Court politics were out of the realm of Jason’s purview, though, and he wasn’t going to start unraveling the knots that went along with them now. “Do you need anything else, Your Majesty?”

“No,” she said. Deft fingers worked to pin up her hair and then she waved him off. “You may go.”

Jason was still sparing too much of his mind for the Starling nobles to pay attention to his surroundings and missed the small, child sized hand as it snapped out and then dragged Jason into a dark passage. The stones groaned as they scraped past each other and then sealed.

A flame flickered to life, the spark of a glowing orange ember and Jason threw a blade into the darkness above it while he still had the opportunity of surprise.

The blade sunk into the stone and wedged in a crack. It vibrated from the force. Damian looked up, slowly, and eyed the few inches of space between his face and the knife. The boy pinned Jason with a stare normally reserved for cockroaches and a meal of cow brains. “Good thing I haven’t hit my growth spurt yet.”

Jason clenched his jaw and grabbed the hilt to yank it out of the wall. He shoved it back into the sheath on his thigh. “Perhaps if you don’t want to be skewered, you’ll resist the urge to drag people into secret passageways without warning.”

“I assumed that you would see my hand and realize that it was not a grown assailant,” Damian said. “Clearly, I overestimated the capabilities of your mental faculties.”

“What did you drag me in here for, _Your Majesty_?” Jason asked. The amount of derision in his tone rivaled Damian’s by the time he got to the boy’s title.

In place of the expected anger or offense, Damian’s eyes grew tight before he looked away entirely. The only noise was the crackle of the torch and then Damian cleared his throat. “I contacted the Starling nobles, as you requested.”

Jason couldn’t pretend that news didn’t surprise him. “I thought-“

“I know what you thought,” Damian said shortly. “Nonetheless, you were right. Mother cannot be allowed to do this.”

Jason crossed his arms over his chest. “What made you change your mind?”

“Does it matter?” Damian asked.

“Maybe,” Jason countered.

“The Drakes,” Damian said finally. “Mother had them killed. I met with their son at the funeral. Grayson said losing his parents was one of the hardest things he ever lived through. Losing Father, I don’t even remember him… Mother is slaughtering families. I may not like Drake, but I do not enjoy seeing that pain in anyone’s eyes.”

Especially knowing that Dick had felt that same pain, Jason concluded.

“You’re a good kid,” Jason said.

Damian’s chest puffed, even if he still didn’t raise his eyes. “Mother’s magic… her spells would reverse, but anything physical would remain the same. Potions, for example.” He lifted his eyes to Jason’s. “I know that she gave you back your heart and so you will not die, but her spells to make you stronger will fail with her death. Spells, but not… Grayson will not wake, Todd. I wanted you to know before you got your hopes up. I got the information from Mother before I sent the letter so that I would know for sure. The apple was poisoned.”

It was too late for Jason’s hopes which had risen at the merest hint of being able to kill Talia, back when he’d first suggested it to Damian. To have them dashed this way…

Dick would still be trapped there, even if they managed to succeed.

“Thank you for letting me know,” Jason said. “Maybe we can figure something else out after.” Damian nodded. “Can you let me out now, squirt?”

“Cease the ridiculous nickname now before it can become habit,” Damian snapped. “And the passage is sealed from here. The entrance opens up at the top of the stairs. Follow me.”

Damian pressed his ear against the wall at the top of the staircase, pressing a hidden latch when he apparently determined that the hallway was clear. The stones grated loudly against one another as the panel slid open.

“How did you even find this place?” Jason asked.

“A little bird,” Damian replied.

“No, really.” Jason frowned.

Damian scowled, twisting around to press against another hidden latch to close the passage once more. “Really. I was walking down the hallway and heard a bird tweeting from inside the walls. It took some time and effort but I knew I couldn’t leave the creature to waste away inside some locked passage.”

Jason arched an eyebrow. “It’s a figure of speech, Damian.”

“What?” Damian asked.

“A little bird told me,” Jason said.

Damian straightened as much as his four foot frame would allow. “I found the _bird_ , Todd. Do not mock me.”

Jason sighed. “Whatever, kid.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I guess we should be going our separate ways.”

“Not soon enough,” Damian spat.

Jason shook his head as the child king walked away, heading in the opposite direction to visit Dick.

~~~

Lord Oliver and Lady Dinah made a beautiful couple. The man, dressed in the rich greens of his family line, with his arm intertwined with that of his wife. Lady Dinah looked like a picture of beauty herself, the black dress with hints of those same rich greens and accents of silver. Followed by a redhead and an Asian woman, dressed in a different combination of the same colors, and a single man repeating that trend but without a bride on his arm. Instead he walked beside a young girl, hair braided down her back and kicking her leg forward as she was forced to stop walking. She appeared to delight in making her skirt fluff forward with each kick.

Jason smiled at her, long enough for her to sense his gaze and look up. She smiled and waved. Jason waved back and watched her stifle her giggles.

“Welcome,” Damian said. “You sent word that you were here to bring gifts for the coronation.”

“Indeed,” Lord Oliver said. “Dinah, if you please?”

Lady Dinah stepped forward, hands on either side of a box. It was ornate and silver and she twisted something at the bottom before opening the lid of the box. The figurine of a dancer – dark hair, pulled up tight, and garbed in a dress better suited to a fairy – rose as the lid was pulled back and the music began playing. A twinkling song filled the area as the dancer spun on her toe. After letting the music play for several bars, Lady Dinah closed the box once more. She placed it on the step down from Damian’s feet.

“Connor,” Lord Oliver ordered.

The younger man stepped forward after taking a box from their travelling guard. He placed it on the step as well, proceeding to open it for the prince. Jason couldn’t quite make out the contents until Connor lifted it from the box and showed a bow. It was a fancier design, a focus on the craftsmanship of the woodcarver rather than the skill of the bow. Beautiful, truly.

“Roy,” Lord Oliver said.

Connor curled his hands tight around the bow and dropped down onto one knee, revealing the redhead standing behind him. Jason had fallen for the distraction just as easily as Talia had and couldn’t pretend he didn’t feel surprise as well. In his hands, with all the confidence born of skill and training, was a true hunter’s bow with the arrow notched and the string drawn back.

“A gift for Her Majesty,” the redhead said. The twang of the string heralded the release of the arrow, but Jason knew that it would not be enough.

It burned up, starting as the steel tip melted in front of their eyes and then moving down in a burst of flames down the shaft. The feathers of the vane drifted slowly down to the floor.

“Kill them, Jason,” Talia ordered, not looking even a touch worried.

Jason stayed where he was.

Talia turned to him. “Jason, if you have any wish left for me to let Richard sleep in peace you will do as I say. Kill them!”

Dick looked peaceful and serene, but if Jason were honest he knew that this wasn’t a life that Dick would have wanted. To be forced into his mind, trapped, would have been a nightmare for the man Jason loved. For someone so full of life, to know that he’d been stuck and used as a pawn to move the kingdom to Talia’s will would have brought guilt to those beautiful blue eyes. In Jason’s breast pocket, Damian’s drawings were folded up. The one with Dick smiling, looking one second from chattering away – the way Jason preferred remembering.

Dick would have put his life on the line to get rid of Talia – to protect people like the little girl who only wanted to hear the way her dress made a swishing sound when the skirt moved.

Jason pulled his blade from his thigh sheath.

“Todd?” Damian asked.

Jason launched himself at Talia.

Jason took a blast from Talia, a wave of green magic that forced him several feet back. She stood, squeezing her hand and making his chest scream with pain. Her focus on him opened her to another arrow from Roy. This one missed, barely and only because Talia took a step away from Jason just as it flew from the bow. It cut across Talia’s chest in the process, leaving a bright red line over her chest where blood dripped down into the valley between her breasts.

Jason pushed off of the ground to attack again.

“Connor!” Lord Oliver shouted. The boy was already in the process of drawing an arrow out of the box and putting it in the delicately designed bow to fire as well.

“He’s one man,” Talia growled.

“The fact that you can’t see that we’re not all fighting for Dick is why you’re going to lose,” Jason said.

Talia curled her hand into a fist again and the pain took Jason back down to his knees. One hand braced against the floor as he cried out through the pain. Just as suddenly, it was gone. Another arrow, this one driving into Talia’s shoulder. She turned, grabbed the sword right out of the hands of a suit of armor, twisting to bring it up and block Lord Oliver’s attack with _his_ sword. She shoved back with the force of her strike and struck in his stumble to cut open his sleeve and the skin below it. The dark green turned even darker as it soaked up the blood.

Jason had long realized how strong a fighter Talia was. Magic or melee, Talia had been raised as a warrior before she ever wore a crown. She could fight just as well as any of these men and better.

Talia raised her hand, screaming through the pain where her shoulder shifted and the arrow dug in deeper, sending several arrows fired back towards the Starling nobles. Lord Oliver was hit again, this time in the leg, and Roy was saved from taking it directly to the face when the Asian woman used quick reflexes to drag him out of the way. It still caught him on the side of his head, no doubt slicing into his scalp.

Lady Dinah wobbled back, falling to the floor. The shaft of the arrow stuck out from her stomach. Jason heard Lord Oliver’s bellow at the sight.

The room splashed with the bright red of blood and the eerie green of Talia’s magic. The explosions, the clang of metal, the painful feeling in Jason’s chest left from Talia’s invisible attack. Talia turned her attack back to Jason, lifting a sword red with blood and holding the blade against his neck from where her last blast had just knocked him down the steps and onto his knees. He panted, looking up at her. “I should have left you in the same ditch I pulled you out of.”

“Maybe you should have,” Jason said.

Her arm rose and Jason closed his eyes. There was some solace knowing that he’d tried for Dick. Maybe he hadn’t succeeded, but their attempt might inspire another to do the same.

Dick, Jason thought, would have been proud.

The pain never came and beneath the rapid beat of his own heart Jason heard Talia choke. He opened his eyes, seeing the tip of the blade piercing out of her chest. A drop of blood fell off the tip and onto Jason’s cheek. Talia’s own sword clattered to the floor and then she collapsed to her knees.

Damian let go of the hilt and stepped back. His eyes were wide and his hands were shaking. Together they watched Talia suck in air, rattling breaths that left speckles of blood on her lips.

And then she stopped breathing altogether.

Damian stumbled back, falling down on the steps in front of the throne and looking down at his hands. Jason could only watch as the tears fell onto his palms and fingers, mingling with the blood to turn his hands pink.

Jason stood, looking around the room. The blood, the carnage, the pleas of people aiming to get another moment of life out of their loved ones. Damian’s pain. The doors opening and the guards stepping inside.

He looked at the empty thrones up the steps and the portrait behind them of King Thomas and Queen Martha smiling down at them.

~~~

In the scuffle, Jason had lost his key to Dick’s room. Damian, fortunately, pulled one from his pockets and steadily pushed it in to unlock the door. Jason’s eyes were on the floor, or rather the toes of his boots. Soaked with red. He ran into Damian and lifted his head to see the problem, surprised to find His Majesty seated in Jason’s place beside Dick.

Dick, of course, remained asleep.

“Your Majesty?” Jason managed.

“Father,” Damian said.

Bruce patted Dick’s hand. “Soon,” he said to him. He stood and met their eyes. He crouched down in front of Damian. “You’re a lot bigger than the last time I got to hold you, but you won’t mind if I indulge just this once?”

Damian didn’t respond which the man apparently took as permission, wrapping the young boy up in his arms and squeezing him tightly.

“I don’t understand,” Damian said softly.

Bruce took another beat to embrace him, pulling back with obvious reluctance and ruffling Damian’s hair. “Your mother would forfeit her immortality if she took a life. I knew of her dabbling in magic when I married her and hoped that her making that oath would be enough but…” He sighed. “On my return, she met me in the woods and cursed me into another form to get me out of the way since I refused to take the throne away from Dick.”

Bruce brushed a yellow feather off his shoulder. “The canary.”

Bruce nodded. “I aided when I could.”

He’d led Dick through the forest and this was no doubt the little bird who had given Damian access to the secret passages. Damian cleared his throat. “Spells that she cast would fade with her death.”

Another nod. Bruce stepped back over to the bed, looking down at Dick.

“Grayson’s curse was the product of a potion,” Damian said. “The curse is unbreakable.”

“There’s no such thing as an unbreakable curse, Damian,” Bruce said. “Jason, do you love Dick?”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Jason responded. “Without a doubt.”

Blue eyes snapped to Jason’s face. “Do you believe that he truly loves you?”

Jason thought of waking, of realizing that Dick had given up everything for him. Quieter, “I do.”

“While this is not well known,” Bruce started. “My mother and father had dabbled in magic. Nothing to the extent that Talia did. Healing magic, mostly. But my mother once told me that there was no greater magic than love. It’s the strength in mothers when they lift entire trees off of trapped children and the blessing left in Dick’s amulet and the power of true love’s kiss.”

Jason saw where Bruce was going. He stepped forward, resenting hope as it rose up inside of him. “You could be wrong.”

“I could be,” Bruce admitted.

Jason put one knee on the bed, leaning over Dick to cup his cheek. Jason hesitated, and then pressed their lips together. Cold stretched from his heart taking every vein and filling it with ice as Dick remained unresponsive. Jason pulled away, eyes closed. His fingers brushed over Dick’s cheek. He pulled back, and then fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist, startling his eyes open.

Dick smiled, eyes shining, and he pulled on Jason’s hand to get him closer. “That was hardly a kiss at all, Jason. Try again.”

Jason returned the smile and leaned back in. After all, who was Jason to deny Dick that request?

~~~

The sky looked beautiful with the blast of fireworks lighting up the night. Sparkles of blue and red, green and yellow, and casting a reflection on Jason’s face that was so mesmerizing that Dick had to split his attention between the fireworks themselves and the beautiful glow they made in Jason’s eyes.

“You’re staring again,” Jason said.

“Can you blame me?” Dick asked. Jason leaned in to share another kiss with him. Apparently answer enough for Jason. The man’s hand was curled around the balcony and Dick placed his over top, the gold of his wedding band filling him with warmth. He leaned his head on Jason’s shoulder. “I got my fireworks anyways.”

“Technically, Bruce got the fireworks,” Jason said.

“It’s a re-coronation. I don’t think he’d mind if I stole his fireworks,” Dick said.

Jason smiled at that, lifting his shoulder just enough to bounce Dick’s head. Dick pulled his eyes away from the fireworks, looking down at the nobles in the courtyard watching. With some effort he found the Starling nobles again. Lord Oliver with his hand on Lady Dinah’s shoulder where she was seated. Lian on Roy’s shoulders beside Jade, clapping excitedly at all the colors and noises.

“I love you,” Jason whispered.

“I love you too,” Dick said.

~~~

The explosions of the fireworks were muted in the staircase up to the tower. Damian was still small enough to fit through the hole under the boards, blocking entrance to his mother’s former private room. Drake, fortunately, was small for his age as well.

“Damian?” Drake asked. “Maybe there’s a reason that your father doesn’t want you in here. Did you ever consider that?”

“If you’re only going to run off and tell him I was in here, you might as well go now. I’ll be done by that point anyways,” Damian said.

Drake shook his head, pulling a cobweb out of his obnoxiously long hair. He wrinkled his nose at it. “I didn’t say I was going to tell him, Damian.”

“Good,” Damian replied.

Things hadn’t much changed. There was a fine layer of dust over Mother’s things and the blood from the battle that day had long dried in the cracks and crevices of the stones. Damian’s eyes fell on the mirror on the wall, the empty eyed skull of his grandfather. In response to Damian’s presence, the mirror seemed to ripple.

Drake took a step back. “Damian…”

The boy ignored him, dragging over a chair and climbing up onto it. Only his reflection stared back. He pressed his hand against the glass, cold under his touch, and then narrowed his eyes on the woods etched into the bottom. “Mirror, mirror, of blood and bone…”

“Damian,” Tim said again. The mirror heated up under Damian’s hand. He pulled away suddenly, foot catching on the edge and falling. Tim’s arms wrapped around him to catch him. “What are you looking for, Damian?”

The boy looked up at the mirror. “I want to know if I did the right thing.”

The mirror rippled again, glowing just behind the glass, and Damian felt his gut clench. “Look down!”

He and Tim barely had their eyes covered and faces turned away when the screech of shattering glass was followed by the propulsion of shards of the mirror flying out into the room. Damian looked up at the hollow frame before it disintegrated in front of them and created a pile of bone dust on the floor.

“What does that mean?” Tim asked, after a beat.

“It’s over,” Damian said. “And I believe… I believe I have been forgiven.”

\---

[](http://78.media.tumblr.com/3fa023026ca60a873beb15d2dbf5be9d/tumblr_oznf6jltjJ1v356gao1_500.jpg)


End file.
